


Borrowed Time

by acesdesire



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fix-It, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Political Unrest, Post-Canon Fix-It, Promptis - Freeform, Prompto's Short Lifespan / Fix-It, Romance, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Spoilers, ending spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2020-12-24 22:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 204,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21107279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acesdesire/pseuds/acesdesire
Summary: It has been eight months since the light has been restored to Eos, and Noctis is in the midst of rebuilding his kingdom.  Since his return to the throne, he has allowed himself to at least consider the possibility that Prompto could rule alongside him.  The only problem is, Prompto has been keeping himself at a distance.  Noctis has to wonder, what is it that is keeping them apart, and is there something he can do to fix it?





	1. Repatriation

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everybody! So, here I am, uploading this massive story that I've had in the works for over two years now. After months of beta searching with no luck, I've decided to simply bite the bullet and give this a go myself. I've made tons of notes, cue cards, and timelines to help me pull this thing together as well as I can, and I hope it comes across as clean and polished as I always wanted it to be.
> 
> The idea for this story began back when I first heard one of the game developers say Prompto might not have a long lifespan because of the way he was created. Of course, as a Prompto fan, I could not accept this piece of information, and had to take it upon myself to fix it. The whole game ending needed a fix-it in my opinion, anyway, so after two years of writing, here we are!
> 
> I've written over 250,000 words to date, and the story is mostly done, save for a few gaps later on, which I will hopefully have filled in before it's time to upload those chapters. I've never uploaded a major story like this before finishing it 100%, so this is kind of new territory for me, but I think at this point, it's the best way for me to stay committed to it and see it through to the end. Don't worry, finishing this is a bucket-list item for me, so I will not quit until I finish and upload every chapter! 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys this first little taste of this story, and enjoys reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Without further ado, I present to you... Borrowed Time. Happy reading!

**Section 1: The Lost Connection**

**Chapter 1**

_“_ _Have a good evening, Highness.” Ignis’ voice was full of fondness, and so much relief; there was a time when he and his companions never thought they would get to address Noct like that again, but he was here, and he was alive. Gladio gave a nod of agreement as he helped Ignis down the steps of the caravan. They would travel back to Insomnia tonight to reconvene with the glaives who remained there. The sooner they could recruit help for the restoration of the Citadel, the better. Not to mention, they were eager to share the good news: their king had survived, even though he was never meant to bring back the light and still escape with his life._

_ As the screen door swung shut, Noctis and Prompto exchanged a glance—Noct looking uncertain, and Prompto looking downright nervous. Noct strolled over to shut and lock the inside door; he wasn’t sure how much privacy they would want or need tonight, but even if they didn’t do anything more than talk, he was sure they wouldn’t want any interruptions in this conversation. _

“_So... we made it, Noct,” came a breath of relief from behind. Noctis slowly spun around and took a seat at the small card table across from Prompto. His friend smiled shyly at him before averting his gaze to the window beside him. Sunset was coming much too early tonight, having just gotten the light back, and Prompto hoped with all his heart that the sun would rise without fail tomorrow._

_ “Yeah,” Noct smiled, softly, following his companion’s gaze to the pink sky outside. His gaze didn’t linger, as he didn’t long for this sight as much as Prompto did; he hadn’t suffered through the years of endless night. Instead, Noct’s gaze travelled to Prompto’s face, studying the tiny ways in which it had changed. At least those laugh lines probably meant he had kept his positivity and sense of humour through these tough times, right?_

_ “Prompto?” Noct’s voice was so gentle, causing Prompto to look up, though he still looked a little wary. Of what? Of him? Noct bravely reached out for one of his hands that were resting on the table, needing to rid him of whatever tension lay between them. Prompto’s fingers were rougher than he remembered, his trigger finger the roughest of all, and Noct swallowed hard as he tried to imagine how many battles Prompto had had to fight without him._

_ “How have you been holding up all this time? And you can be honest,” Noctis murmured, intending to provide some genuine comfort. He was startled when Prompto laughed._

_ “Sounds like you expected me to fall apart without you.”_

“_I didn’t mean it like that— I mean, I know you’re strong, and obviously, you made it this far, but...” Noctis trailed off, and averted his eyes. “I know I would have had some trouble... if _I’d _lost_ you_,” Noct admitted, solemnly, his gaze fixed on the table._

_ The confession made Prompto’s heart twinge, and his teasing grin faded as he regretted tormenting his friend. He brushed a thumb over the back of Noct’s hand, letting him know he appreciated what he’d said._

_ “I certainly had some trouble,” Prompto said, with a flicker of a smile, but it was sad. Eyes met again before both nervously darted away._

_ “In the beginning, I was a wreck,” he divulged, but didn’t feel like dragging Noct down with the details—the way he’d fallen to his knees, crying in despair in front of the crystal until Gladio and Ignis had to carry him away; the way he used to break down at the drop of a hat; the way night terrors ruined his sleep._

_ “But there comes a point when you’ve cried yourself dry, and you can either give up or keep fighting.” Prompto looked up to meet Noctis’ eyes before continuing. “And I knew what you would have wanted me to do.”_

_ “Thank you,” Noct smiled, squeezing his hand. “For fighting, for doing what you could to keep people safe.”_

_ “Come on, it was the least I could do for you,” Prompto chuckled, softly. Silence set in, and their other hands slowly wandered across the table to link as well, meeting somewhere in the middle as their owners stared out at the darkening sky. Their actions should have told Noct what he needed to know, but he had to make sure._

_ “Was there anyone around to help you through this? I mean, like Cindy, or...?” he tried, fumbling with his words._

_ “What do you mean?” Prompto asked very slowly, his eyes shy and curious. They seemed to flicker uncertainly, or maybe it just looked that way in the unnatural, yellow light of the caravan._

_ “I mean...” Noct started, sucking in a loud and uncomfortable breath, finding it difficult to properly choose his words. “When it comes to us, do you still...?”_

_ Now Noct was the one with worried eyes, and they stared up at Prompto, seeming brighter than ever with his long hair swept away from his face; those eyes used to be so heavily covered in bangs, which sometimes helped to hide his emotions, but they were out on display for all to see now. Prompto still appeared anxious, but he leaned forward slightly in his seat, his hands clutching Noctis’ a little tighter._

_ “I still,” he assured him, giving a tiny, innocent shrug, and before he knew it, Noctis was leaning in across the table. Prompto wasn’t about to deny either of them this moment, and he leaned in to meet his king’s lips. Noctis’ technique, and the feel of his lips was very much the same, but Prompto couldn’t help but chuckle as his stubble tickled his skin. He heard Noct give a muffled laugh against his lips, too, and knew he was feeling the same thing—a kiss that was familiar, but new; different, but so very good._

_ Prompto was the first to pull back, wanting to look into Noctis’ eyes again to confirm that this time he wasn’t dreaming. This time he wouldn’t have to watch as Noct vanished before him, was brutally murdered or sucked into the crystal. He wouldn’t have to wake up in a cold sweat, or cry into his pillow when he remembered his prince was gone._

_ “It’s been a long ten years,” he laughed quietly, and absentmindedly tugged his bottom lip into his mouth to taste Noctis again, which did not go unnoticed by the man across the table. Noct thought it was endearing, and quite adorable, but it also saddened him that his absence had taken such a toll on Prompto, making this moment so very precious to him._

_ “I know that, to me, it doesn’t feel like ten years have passed, but... I’ve missed you, too,” Noct murmured. He could remember times in the crystal when he would try to call out to his friends—crying out Prompto’s name, in particular—so loudly in his head, but never being able to get the sounds past his throat. There were times when Prompto would appear in his dreams. Sometimes his hand would be there in front of him, the rest of his body shrouded in a white light, and Noct would reach out for him, but he was always too far away to grasp. He may not have been fully lucid in the crystal, but his mind certainly hadn’t been void of thought._

_ Prompto smiled at the confession, and Noct leaned in again, noses brushing. He could feel Prompto’s quick and ragged breaths on his chin, and could feel the urgency of the moment increase. Noctis wanted nothing more than to pick up where they’d left off all those years ago. They’d parted in Zegnautus Keep of all places, right after Prompto had told the guys about his origins. They had only gotten a brief chance to talk in private after that, during which time Prompto had seemed to keep his distance, sitting across the bed from Noct instead of venturing over to sit beside him. Prompto had deserved about a hundred hugs and kisses that day, after his confession about the MTs and after being held as Ardyn’s prisoner, but Noct had been afraid to seek much contact when Prompto had still seemed a little reserved. He could make up for that now, right? Couldn’t he at least try?_

_ Noctis unlaced a hand from Prompto’s, but only to tangle it in the back of his hair instead. Prompto whimpered weakly, his heart aching as he realized how desperately he had missed this man, and how many of his feelings he had cut off so he would no longer suffer the pain of losing him. Now all of those emotions were all trickling back, and it was overwhelming. He wanted to cry tears of both joy and sadness, of satisfaction and disbelief, but he held back; if Noct saw tears, it might end this blissful moment all too soon._

_ Prompto could sense Noct standing up across from him, though his lips and hands remained in place. The hand in Prompto’s hair tugged upward slightly, and Prompto followed the gentle coaxing, getting to his feet as well. Kisses hastened, and they stumbled away from the table, Noct’s hand finding Prompto’s waist as soon as the darn thing was no longer between them._

_ They manoeuvred through the tiny caravan and collapsed onto the bed with very little grace, Prompto narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the upper bunk as Noctis pulled him down. Hands worked together to send Noct’s dark grey t-shirt tumbling towards the floor, and Prompto found his hands trailing over Noct’s chest as he kissed him. Just hours before, they had been cleaning blood from that spot where the ghostly sword had been thrust through him. Now, there was no sword, no blood, nor wound. There was not even the tiniest mark of evidence that Noctis’ life had almost been taken from him that day, and Prompto felt tears stinging his eyes now as he absorbed that fact. He blinked, and pulled back from Noct’s lips, earning a confused and slightly disappointed look from the king._

_ “Everything okay?” Noct asked, his hand settling into the small of Prompto’s back and rubbing gently, his blue eyes gaining more worry by the second. Prompto nodded, but his eyes travelled down to Noctis’ bare chest. He watched his fingertips rub over the smooth skin, still finding it hard to believe that there was no damage at all after the incident in the throne room. Had the Astrals been the ones to save and heal Noct after his sacrifice? Prompto supposed no one would ever know for sure._

_ “It all just seems too good to be true, you know?” he said, tearfully, and felt a painful jerk in his stomach that reminded him it _was _too good to be true. Even if Noct was in the clear, this wasn’t Prompto’s fairytale ending, as much as he wanted it to be._

_ Noct stared at his friend with penetrating eyes, trying so hard to read him. There was still that hint of humour in his voice that rarely seemed to leave, yet Noctis sensed there was a darkness behind those words. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but felt there was something Prompto wasn’t saying. Of course, it wouldn’t be surprising. He probably had ten years’ worth of things he wanted to say, and certainly couldn’t pour them all out for him right here and now. Rebuilding would take time. Even trust would take time. They may have known each other better than anyone before, but Noct needed to get to know this older Prompto—the one who had been through so much during his absence._

_ “Noct, do you mind if we... just take things slow?” Prompto asked, before Noctis could decide what he wanted to say next. The king’s eyes widened slightly, and Prompto hoped it was more out of confusion than hurt, but it was hard to say for sure._

_ “I know. I really want this, too, but we just saved the world. We should probably... take a little time to fix your kingdom before we start fixing ourselves.” Noctis let out a breath, which was a poorly disguised sigh, and Prompto lowered his head in regret and embarrassment. He shifted backwards to kneel near the end of the bed, giving Noctis the room he needed to sit up. He rubbed his arm sheepishly, looking like a child awaiting punishment._

_ “I’ve let you down,” Prompto whispered, sorrowfully, but Noct quickly shook his head._

“_Not at all,” he promised. “I mean, of course, I wasn’t opposed to...” He gave an amused glance at the abandoned shirt on the floor, and it was enough to make Prompto chuckle softly._

_ “But I understand, this is all happening pretty fast,” he said, reaching out for Prompto’s hand again—tenderly like he had at the beginning of their conversation. He brought it to his lips and softly kissed the back of his knuckles. _

“_So, take all the time you need, okay? I’ll wait.”_

* * *

“Thank you for coming to see me today,” Noctis smiled softly, his eyes scanning over each of the citizens before him. A mother and father were kneeling before the throne, their little girl staring up at the King with wide, curious eyes, her lips parted in awe. Noct scooted forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I hope you enjoy your life in Lucis, little one,” he said, addressing the young girl, who swayed timidly at his words, her hands laced behind her back, blonde hair sparkling in the sunlight.

“Thank you so much, Your Majesty,” the father said, helping his wife up as he got to his feet.

“You’re very welcome. One of my glaives will escort you out.” Noctis gave a nod to a young glaive, who stood at the doorway to the throne room, and she strode forward.

“Follow me,” she instructed with a brief flash of a smile, and led the people out. As the door shut behind them, Gladio abandoned his post at the other side of the door, stepping forward and stretching an arm across his chest, holding it tight with his elbow before stretching the other arm in the same fashion.

“You did good,” he praised, and Noctis rubbed his temples, still leaning forward, but slouching more than when his visitors were present.

“So many people have been through so much,” the King breathed, sadly and wearily. Gladio halted when he reached the stairway leading to the throne, looking up at Noctis for permission—who gave an approving nod—before ascending to the next platform up and leaning casually against the railing.

“They were from Niflheim?” Gladio inquired, double-checking what he’d overheard from his position at the entryway.

“Yeah. If the circumstances had been just a little different, they could have ended up in Besithia’s laboratory. The girl’s parents... they could have easily been snatched up when they were infants, when Verstael was experimenting with the daemonification,” Noctis lamented, gaze fixed on the floor. Gladio let out a grunt of agreement, not liking the thought any more than Noctis did, and his thoughts instinctively travelled to their companion who had been far too close to those experiments.

“Speaking of which... you know what today is, right?” Gladio quizzed. Noctis popped back up in his seat, rotating his shoulders in what looked like uncomfortable motions rather than a good stretch. _Prompto is coming back today._ He’d been trying not to think about it, yet it had been on his mind enough to make him feel sick to his stomach.

“Yeah. I know,” he replied, quickly and casually.

“Feeling okay about it?” Gladio smirked at the question.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because the last time Prompto was here, you got kind of sulky.” Noctis’ mouth popped open in shock at the accusation, then he pouted sourly.

“I wasn’t sulky,” he protested, though his current expression reflected the mood perfectly; he’d worn that face all week the last time Prompto had visited. “Things have just been a little strained between us. I’m... not exactly sure why, to be honest.”

Gladio peered up at his friend, who looked so pensive as he gazed straight ahead now. He had to admit, he had been surprised as well to see Prompto so cautious around Noctis, so quiet and timid that Gladio thought the kid might actually be avoiding his friend, but he wasn’t about to get involved. Gladio knew there were reasons why Prompto might not want to jump right back into things with Noctis, and he didn’t want to push the guy; it was really none of his business.

“Well,” Gladio grunted. “I guess you can’t expect things to fall right back into place. Ten years is a long time. Maybe he’ll be more relaxed now that the mission you sent him on is over, and he can settle back in here.”

“I didn’t _send _Prompto on this mission. He volunteered,” Noct defensively clarified, and Gladio smirked as he threw his hands up in mock surrender. His king may have been trying to play off Prompto’s return like it was nothing, but he was wound far too tight to make that act believable. Noctis caught on to that, too, when he saw Gladio trying to hide that amused smile, and he lowered his head in regret. It was childish to pretend this wasn’t bothering him, and would be far more honourable to simply admit it.

“Honestly, I feel like he wanted the distance from me,” Noctis solemnly confessed, his dark lashes falling down to cover his eyes.

“Don’t let this get you down, Noct.” Noctis nearly coughed as a giant hand patted him on the back; he’d been so caught up in his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed Gladio climbing the last set of steps to his throne. Now, he stood beside him, his hand remaining on his back in a sign of comfort.

“Prompto will come around. Don’t forget, he’s been through a lot, too, and he took your disappearance pretty hard,” Gladio reminded him. Noctis’ eyes flickered up to his Shield for a moment before returning to the floor as he wondered what Prompto had gone through back then. His answers about that time had been so vague when they had talked that night in the trailer, and since then, they hadn’t spoken much at all—at least not in private.

“Do you think... he’s scared of losing me again?” the king asked, with eyes that reflected those of a young Noctis when they looked up to stare at Gladio. Gladio gave a warm smile, and gave his friend another pat on the back.

“I think you should just talk to him.”

* * *

It was weird being back in Insomnia, seeing only mere pieces of a city he remembered, and other pieces that had been completely replaced or reconstructed. It was almost familiar, almost comforting, but Prompto felt more sick than anything as he took in the sights—the sushi place where Noctis used to work was now a bank; the vintage camera shop and antique store was now a venue that sold only modern electronics. From the outside, the arcade didn’t even look anything like it used to, its familiar sign now lit up with different coloured lights and updated lettering. Prompto wondered if they had managed to salvage any of the old games he and Noct used to play.

“You doing okay back there?” The glaive ahead asked from the driver’s seat. It hadn’t been the first time he’d caught Prompto looking rather carsick in the rear view mirror during the journey back from Leide, but this time it had nothing to do with the locomotion.

“I’m fine,” Prompto promised, but he only felt even more ill when they pulled up to the gates to the Citadel. The driver said his name into the roadside speaker, and a voice responded, giving them the go-ahead to enter. Prompto swallowed hard as the metal gate swung open, granting them passage to the courtyard.

This was it. He had completed the last stage of his mission. He was back for good, and dodging Noctis would be much more difficult now that they would be under the same roof—an extraordinarily large roof, but still... There were only so many places to hide in the Citadel.  
  
“Here we are,” the driver announced much too soon. He stopped the car in front of the palace steps, uttering that he would park the vehicle in the back of the building and meet them inside later. Prompto thanked him, and he and the two other glaives that had accompanied him stepped out of the car as he did.

Together they ascended the steps, the two calling quick goodbyes to Prompto once they reached the top, and disappearing inside the heavy doors, probably heading straight for the showers. Prompto wished he could do the same, as they were all a little grimy from a couple of days of driving in close quarters, but he had been instructed to report in as soon as he arrived back. With a sigh, and an unsettled flutter in his heart, he pulled open the double doors and slipped inside.

The lobby was quiet and empty, and he was relieved that his return didn’t call for celebration; knowing his friends, it wouldn’t have been completely out of the ordinary to see coloured banners and ‘_welcome home_’ signs upon arrival. He strode directly to the elevator and hit the button for the eleventh floor, and waited patiently, but the ride was too short. Before he knew it, he was stepping off, his heart pounding now as he headed for the advisor’s quarters. Quietly, he gave a knock on the intricately designed black door, and Ignis appeared before him seconds later.

“Hey, Iggy,” Prompto greeted softly, his gaze travelling immediately to the man’s glasses as he adjusted them over his blind eyes.

“Prompto,” Ignis smiled, never questioning who owned that voice. “So, you’ve returned safely.”

“Yep. All in one piece. Happy to report that there were no sour negotiations anywhere, really,” he said, trying to muster his chipper tone, but not quite managing. It was flat, containing a poorly disguised sadness.

“That’s good to hear. We shall discuss said negotiations further with the council. Shall I inform the king?”

“Sure...” Prompto hadn’t meant it to, but the word came out soft and unconvincing. To his surprise, he felt a hand on his shoulder as his solemn gaze tumbled downward. His eyes flickered up towards his friend only for a second or two to gauge his expression, but ever-stoic Ignis was still hard to read. His lips were pulled into a straight line, his brows tugged downward ever so slightly.

“Prompto, if you’re concerned about your rapport with Noct—“ he started, but Prompto knew by his tone where his thoughts were going. Ignis wasn’t wrong in his assumptions either, but Prompto wasn’t ready to lay it all on the line just yet. How he was feeling, how scared he was... It wasn’t the time for dwelling on any of it.

“Rekindling things can wait until the kingdom is in better shape,” Prompto said, before Ignis could get another word in, but the man could sense the uncertainty in Prompto’s tone; the boy was doubtful they _even would_ rekindle things.

“Prompto,” Ignis addressed softly. His caring tone made the younger man shut up and listen, his blue eyes perking up in curiosity. Ignis gently squeezed his shoulder as he spoke.

“I understand how you must be feeling right now, but I believe it would be best for both of you if you informed Noct of our discoveries concerning your well-being.” Prompto appreciated how kind and patient his friend was being with him, but his suggestion was far easier said than done. Prompto shook his head, forgetting Ignis couldn’t see the motion.

“No need to drag him down with that right now. He’s got enough on his plate,” he said, trying yet again to maintain a cheerful front, and Ignis could hear him making a move to leave. He stepped forward as Prompto stepped back, his hand squeezing the young man’s shoulder one last time.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you not to bottle this up, but I know you will do whatever you feel is best for everyone,” Ignis said, with an ounce of accusation in his tone that stung a little, as Prompto knew the man was referring to the past—when Prompto had felt the need to hide his barcode from even his closest friends. “Just promise that if it becomes too much, and you don’t feel you can talk to the king about this—”

“I’ll talk to you or Gladio. Promise,” Prompto swore, with a smile that Ignis could hear in his voice. He sounded honest enough, so Ignis didn’t feel he had any reason to doubt him, at least for the time being. The elder gave a nod and released Prompto from his grasp.

“I’ll gather the council.”

* * *

Noctis was a nervous wreck as he sat in the meeting room, feeling like a hundred pairs of eyes were on him as they sat around the long table. In actuality, no more than eight people watched him as he subtly tried to slow his breathing. He hoped to calm himself down as he waited, the anticipation of seeing Prompto bubbling up inside him. He felt like a child waiting for a birthday gift, but with a slight fear that he might not like whatever he was going to get.

He perked up at the sound of the door swinging open, and Prompto hurried in, looking frazzled as he tried to keep what looked like various papers from falling out of his stuffed notebook. He ran a hand through his hair to distract himself from the fact that he had gained a lot of unwanted attention upon entry, only making himself look even less put together. Noctis wondered if Prompto’s current state had anything to do with the apprehension of seeing him, too; he sort of hoped it did, so he wouldn’t be alone in his anxious state.

“So sorry I’m late,” Prompto breathlessly announced, quickly taking his seat in the last empty chair, and setting his notebook down on the shiny black table. “I was just unpacking my stuff, and I lost track of time.”

“No worries, Prompto. We understand you’re just getting settled in,” Noctis addressed him, with a small nod and gentle eyes that Prompto timidly met only for a moment; he wasn’t sure if the short bout of eye contact relieved him or not.

“Right, thanks.” Ignis could hear Prompto struggling to catch his breath as he sat there next to him, so he spoke up to give him a moment to recover.

“Perhaps not everyone has been properly introduced. We have a couple of guests sitting in with us today—the glaives who were on assignment with Prompto. Meet Elea, a glaive who proved herself to Bahamut on the Isle of Angelgard,” he explained, waving blindly towards one of the girls on the opposite side of the table with Iris.  
  
Although Elea had never spoken of that time in her life during their mission together, Prompto remembered being told the stories by others—stories of the glaives who defeated Bahamut on the Isle. After that, it was said that some were chosen to stay and defend Angelgard until Noctis came out of his crystal slumber, and some even died for the cause. A few members of the council eyed the warrior and acknowledged her with a nod.

“And Fae, who played a large role in keeping citizens safe during those ten dark years,” Ignis announced, waving to the next glaive.  
  
Prompto’s gaze travelled to the young girl with bright green eyes, her cherry-red hair fading into pink as it fell around her shoulders. Her hair was pulled into braids that ran just above her ears and met in the back, and although she didn’t wear much of a smile, there was a light in her eyes that had been nowhere in sight when she and Prompto had first met.

“Fae and I go way back. We used to fight together in Lestallum,” Prompto informed the crowd.

“It’s true,” Fae agreed with a curve of her lips.

Noctis found himself leaning forward in his seat, intrigued by this part of his best friend’s life that was completely unfamiliar to him. There was this sickening feeling—this _worry_, even—that he had missed something vital.

“So, let’s get to it. What’d you find out?” Gladio butted in, if only to get that perturbed look off of his king’s face.

“Well,” Prompto started, opening his notebook and flipping through until he found the page he wanted. “Secretary Claustra has agreed to help with restoration efforts of Insomnia, assuming we lend Altissia the same aid. I told her it would be no problem. Uh...” Prompto hummed as he flipped to the next page. “Oh right. Galahd. I think they would like to be part of Lucis again, but it’s going to take some time to win that trust back. They don’t have much leadership there aside from a guy named Libertus, who seems to be taking charge for now. They also don’t have much in the way of funds to support themselves.”

He glanced up at the king who nodded pensively.

“Alright, sounds like we may need another visit there in the near future, depending on how things go, I suppose. What else?” Noct queried.

“As for Niflheim, I wasn’t quite sure who to speak to,” Prompto went on. “The other glaives and I talked to a few town mayors, but there’s no real leader there anymore either. Most of the regions I visited are just so happy to be at peace, they’re content to be part of Lucis or maintain their own regions themselves.”

“How are communications?”

“Good. We can probably maintain healthy long-distance relations. I don’t think another visit is necessary at this time,” Prompto announced.

“You have contacts in your notes?” Noct inquired.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Noct nearly cringed at those words that seemed so terribly out of place coming from his longtime friend. He caught Prompto’s eye, Prompto looking totally oblivious to the fact that he’d done something to cause Noctis so much heartache, so Noct pushed forth a small smile. Perhaps Prompto just didn’t feel it appropriate to address him by name in a meeting such as this; it was probably a simple formality in the presence of others, though that had never been a concern for him in the past.

“Alright then,” Noctis eventually said, taking a bit longer than expected for him to reply to Prompto’s previous comment. “Perhaps we can discuss those names at a later time, if correspondence with any of the regions is necessary.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Prompto nodded, noticing even in the brief meeting of their eyes that there was a wounded look in Noct’s. Prompto swallowed hard and tried to ignore it.

The rest of the meeting was fairly uneventful. Ignis asked most of the questions, while Cor and Prompto carried out the better part of the discussions. To be honest, Noctis zoned out the majority of the time, absorbing the odd comment here and there, but mostly, his attention was on Prompto—his strong jaw and facial features that had filled out since he’d seen him last, the goatee that Noctis would have once bet he couldn’t even grow, the way his hair was slightly shorter and less wildly styled than it used to be. Noct wondered how much ten years could really change someone. Just because Prompto looked older didn’t mean he’d lost his cheery disposition, or his fascination with chocobos...or his love for him.

Some time together was probably all they needed to get back to where they had been all those years ago, and now that Prompto was back in Insomnia for good, finding time to spend together shouldn’t be that hard, in theory at least.

It didn’t take much effort to recall the way they used to be attached at the hip, the way they used to be able to make each other smile at the drop of a hat, and how they always used to know exactly what to say when the other was feeling down. Noct couldn’t forget all the ways in which Prompto had confided in him—about his family, his insecurities, his feelings for him—and Noctis had sought comfort in Prompto just as many times, if not more. He had cried on his shoulder on more than one occasion—about his fears of inheriting the throne, when his father had become increasingly ill, and of course, when King Regis had passed away.

Prompto had always been there, like an extension of Noctis himself that Noct wasn’t quite sure how to live without now that he had been blessed with its presence. Prompto was there to comfort him, to love and protect him, and Noctis couldn’t forget how well they fit together—emotionally, physically. They belonged together, and if some part of Prompto still believed that, too, then surely their problems would fade to nothing before they knew it.

“Is that alright with you, Your Majesty?” Ignis inquired, and Noctis bolted upright, realizing he might have been staring at Prompto a little too obviously, his head resting dozily in his palm.

“Um, what?” Noct regretfully had to ask. The amused smirks and stifled laughter did not go unnoticed by him either as he glanced around the table, wondering what he had missed.

“Is it alright if we adjourn for now?”

“Yeah, sure,” Noct said, nonchalantly, sounding like his spoiled teen self again with that ‘do-whatever-you-want’ sort of tone. He could feel his cheeks warming up now, as he honestly had no idea how long the meeting had been going on while he daydreamed.

“That’s it for now, then. Thank you, everyone, for your attendance,” Ignis announced, and everyone got up from their seat, giving Ignis and the king a nod before wandering out.  
  
Prompto was quick to stuff his papers back into his notebook, and gave Noct a brief and rather nervous smile before departing, leaving only Ignis and Noctis behind. Ignis could tell by Noctis’ heavy sigh that he was unhappy, and he listened carefully as the last of the attendees shuffled out before he closed the door and spoke up.

“It’s Prompto, I presume?”

“It’s like we’re kids again and he’s afraid to talk to me,” Noctis mumbled, clearly disheartened. He folded his hands in front of him on the table, his gaze focused on them rather than on his advisor. He didn’t want to see what kind of expression Ignis was giving him right now, as it was probably either pity or disapproval, and he didn’t want either one.

“Did it occur to you that _you _could seek _him _out rather than waiting for him to do so? Good communication requires effort from both parties, after all,” Ignis stated, simply, and Noctis felt like he was a student again, being taught a concept far more complicated than this one.

“You really think it’s that easy? Remember the last time he was here?”  
  
It had been four months into Prompto’s mission—four months after Noct had saved the world—and he had returned for a week of rest and relaxation before travelling to the remaining locations to create bonds of peace. Noctis had followed him back to his room with a smile on his face, hoping to spend some time together, but Prompto had given him an apologetic smile in return, thanked him for the invitation, but hoped to have some time to himself. He never showed up at regular meal times, and always took off as soon as any Kingsglaive meetings were over. Noct had tried once more after that to reconnect with him, only to receive the same type of response. After that, he just didn’t feel like setting himself up for the rejection.

“I do, but perhaps he simply needed the rest,” Ignis said, with a slight curve to his lips; he knew full well that in the past, spending time with Noctis had led to quite the opposite.  
  
Noctis remained unconvinced of his argument, and Ignis waited patiently for the king to speak again, or even to give him some hint of his reception to his last comment. When he received nothing, he eventually broke the silence.

“Speak with him, Noct. He’s been through… much more than you can imagine,” Ignis said, softly, and Noctis slowly looked up with worried eyes that Ignis could feel on him even without his vision.

“What does _that _mean?” the king cautiously inquired, not sure he wanted to know the details.

“You should ask him yourself,” Ignis replied, trying to make his point for what felt like the tenth time that day. He stood up, indicating to Noctis that he wouldn’t get another word out of him until he took his advice and sought answers from Prompto himself. Noct let out another heavy breath as he stood as well, and followed Ignis toward the exit.

* * *

The walk to Prompto’s room was a long one. Noctis’ feet were heavy as he made his way to the elevator and pressed the button for the eleventh floor. He waited with knots in his stomach, unsure of whether he would be relieved or disappointed if the elevator were to get stuck unexpectedly. The device dinged before he was prepared for it, but he exited with as much courage and confidence as he could as he strode down the hallway toward Prompto’s room.

It hadn’t been all that long since he’d been here. He hadn’t told anyone, but from time to time, he would find himself making his way to Prompto’s room, just so he could feel some connection to Prompto when he was half the world away. He would run a hand along the bed where he used to lie, would venture into his closet to see what was left of his wardrobe, and would open up the nightstand to smell the bottle of cologne he had left behind. This invasion of privacy was a secret that he swore would die with him.

Swallowing the guilt and unease he felt from remembering those days at a time like this, he reached a hand out and knocked on the door. He lost count after a few seconds of waiting, all thoughts disappearing as Prompto opened up the door with a tiny smile on his face.

“Hey,” he uttered, softly.

“Hey. Just thought I’d stop by to welcome you back,” Noct replied, relieved that he had come up with a reasonable excuse for being here. Prompto stepped back, and opened the door a little wider to allow Noct entry.

Noct heard the door shut behind him, and Prompto strolled into the room, pulling out a seat at the desk for Noctis before sitting down across from him on the edge of his bed. Judging by the wrinkles on top of the comforter, he had been relaxing with his feet up before his visitor had gotten there.

“It’s good to see you,” Noct said, when Prompto merely gave him a smile. Maybe he was nervous. He certainly didn’t seem to have much to say, nor did he seem eager to speak.

“You, too,” came the man’s reply, and he gave Noct another smile to prove his point. Noctis watched him carefully as he reached for the bottle of alcohol that was on his nightstand, unable to look away as he brought it to his lips, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed the liquid. Noctis felt his insides flutter at the sight. Prompto looked so much older and more confident in that moment, but both looked good on him.

“You develop a drinking problem while I was gone?” Noct chuckled, softly, hoping the joke would break the ice. Prompto gave a light laugh and lifted the bottle out in front of him, eyeing it as if it had just become a suspicious object.

“I’d hardly say that,” he grinned, meeting Noctis’ eyes, which filled his friend with relief. As simple a gesture as it was, it had been far too long since Noct had seen him smile that freely—no holding back.

“Just making sure,” Noctis smirked. “Because I haven’t seen you drunk since, you know, that night at my apartment.” He hesitated, hoping the memory of their first intimate experience wouldn’t stir up any uncomfortable memories—only good ones. Prompto seemed amused enough at the mention of that night, his lips lifting up slightly at the corners, and a sparkle in his eyes as they met Noct’s.

“No, but sometimes after hunts, the glaives and I would crack open a cold one, and I kind of acquired a taste for these,” he said, raising the bottle as reference. “It’s been a long day, and I felt like I needed to kick back. You won’t hold it against me, will you?”

“Of course not,” Noctis promised, eyeing the bottle. “So, what’s it taste like?”

“Huh?” Prompto asked, his eyes lighting up in curiosity like they used to when they were younger. He held the bottle out to the side a bit to read the fine print, as if it could describe the flavour better than he could.

“It’s a Galahdian ginger drink. Do you want to try?”

“Sure,” Noct agreed, presuming that having even a swig of liquor in him for this conversation was better than nothing. All they had needed that night at his apartment were some slightly lowered inhibitions to get things moving with them; it had been the night that had started everything, and Noct wondered if that was the key to getting Prompto’s guard down again.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he saw Prompto wandering over to his knapsack to find an extra flask. To his dismay, he found none, and hurried over to the wooden cabinet instead where the wine glasses used to reside, only to find it was empty.

“Specs took them to clean them. Said he didn’t want anyone drinking out of them when he could feel a good inch of dust sitting inside,” Noct said, and Prompto grimaced. “I think it was an exaggeration,” Noct added, hoping he hadn’t turned Prompto’s stomach too much for him to finish his drink.

His own stomach was in knots, however, seeing Prompto fumble around like this trying to find a way to offer him that drink when ten years ago, he would have just handed him the bottle. Maybe they weren’t involved right now, but did Prompto really care that much if they drank from the same flask? They’d shared saliva in much more intimate ways.

Prompto shrugged timidly when he found his efforts to be futile, and he strode back over to Noctis, and passed the bottle to him.

“Shoulda’ just done this in the first place,” he said, flushing. He wished he hadn’t looked for alternatives at all. Now not only did he look like an idiot, but he probably also appeared rather rude. Noctis didn’t seem to care—or he at least didn’t show it—as he brought the bottle to his lips and took a sip.

“Mmm, it’s good,” Noctis approved, baring his teeth as the last of the alcohol’s sting went down his throat. He could taste a mix of lemon and ginger, not a combination he’d ever had growing up within the Wall. He eyed the bottle once more before handing it back to Prompto.  
  
“Take another drink, if you’d like,” Prompto smiled, trying to recover from his earlier attempts at keeping him from doing such a thing. “We probably won’t get another taste of it for a while.”

“Next trip to Galahd, drinks are on me, then,” Noctis said, waving a finger at Prompto as he pushed the bottle further into Prompto’s hands.  
  
Prompto seemed hesitant this time when he brought it to his lips, though when he finally did take a swig, Noctis couldn’t help but notice the way his bottom lip ducked inside his mouth—to taste him or the liquor, Noct wasn’t sure, but secretly hoped it was the former.

“So, Prompto? Are... we okay?” Noctis managed to ask, his eyes worried and tender as they met his friend’s.

“Y-yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” Prompto nervously took another drink and swished it around in his mouth, swallowing hard and feeling it burn all the way down.

“It’s been eight months since I came back. I guess I sort of thought... that you and I would be back together by now,” Noct said. It was weird. They had never even had an official breakup—only an involuntary ten-year separation—but with the distance between them now, their rapport could hardly be called a relationship.

“I know,” Prompto breathed, lowering his head. “And I’m sorry, Noct. But it’s complicated.”

“Okay...” The response came out sounding more like a question that an affirmation, and Noct began to ramble as he paced across the room. “I just don’t get why it’s complicated. I mean, was there someone else? Or _is_ there?”  
  
The possibility that Prompto may have been unfaithful to him had entered his mind several times over the past eight months. As much as he hated to think of _his _Prompto in someone else’s arms—or someone else’s bed, for that matter—he wouldn’t have blamed him for finding someone else. It would hurt, yes, but there would be no blame. Ten years was a long time to be alone.

Noct stopped his pacing, halting in front of Prompto and reaching for his hands.  
  
“Whatever it is, Prompto, I can take it. Just tell me what’s going on,” the king begged, and Prompto thought it was so strange to see such royalty wanting someone like him so badly. It had always been that way, but the scale had changed somewhat. Instead of the prince yearning for the pauper, the king yearned for the kingsglaive.  
  
Prompto felt this sense of guilt inside him. Would Lucis be proud to see their king begging for him like this? He doubted it, and he hated feeling like he was taking priority over the kingdom. He didn’t doubt that Noctis would rule it well—didn’t doubt it for a second—but still...

“Noct, there’s only ever been you,” Prompto assured him, squeezing his hands gently as they wrapped around his own. “But Lucis is just getting back on its feet, and I don’t want to get in the way of your duties.”

“Get in the way?” Noctis choked out. He’d only ever thought of Prompto as a support system.

It was strange; Prompto had always been Noctis’ escape from royalty, his way back into the normal world when he needed to forget about his duties for a little while. While he thought he should perhaps be a little apprehensive about him becoming a part of his life as a royal, he was instead comforted by it. He couldn’t run from his duties anymore; he had to embrace them now, and maybe he was ready to do that, especially if he could perform those duties with the person of his choosing.

Although in the past, he wouldn’t let himself dream that someday Prompto would rule by his side, he had since allowed himself to at least consider that it might not be so impossible now that they were adults. Maybe Prompto didn’t have to be something separate from the world of royalty; maybe he could be a part of it.

“You know, like, I don’t want to distract you.”

“What are you saying?” Noctis frowned, looking utterly disgusted. “You don’t think I can keep my personal and professional life in order? I know what it takes to rule a kingdom, Prompto. I watched my father do it for years!”

“Whoa, I’m not trying to insult you—” Prompto backed up, hands in the air in surrender. Noctis’ emotions were on a high, and Prompto knew that he had caused this; avoiding him for so long had finally come back to bite him. Noctis realized how much he had raised his tone now that he saw the vulnerable, frightened look in Prompto’s eyes. He released a sigh, and lowered his head in apology.

“Something’s just not adding up,” he whispered, then his eyes darted back up to meet Prompto’s. “You still...?”

“Yes, Noct. Of course, I still. I still love you like we were sixteen years old,” Prompto assured him, his eyes watery now as he spoke, his voice soft and desperate.

“Then what...?”

A knock at the door startled them both, and Noct stared at Prompto with pleading, angry eyes, begging him to give him an answer before he even considered opening the damn door. Prompto solemnly shook his head, but his firm voice and stiff posture told Noct that he was standing his ground.

“More time, Noct. I just need more time,” he said, before going to answer the door. He pulled it open slowly to see Gladio standing there.

“Hey. Me ‘n some of the guys are going out for some drinks. Thought you might want to come with us, so we could catch up,” Gladio offered, catching sight of a clearly distraught Noctis further inside the room. Next he analyzed Prompto’s face, and quickly decided that Prompto was thankful he had given him an escape from...whatever had been going on.

“Sounds great. I’ll meet you downstairs in a few?”

“Yep. See ya there,” Gladio said, then dragged his gaze back to the pouting former-prince. “You’re welcome to come, too, Majesty, as long as you remove that stick from your ass first.”

Noctis scowled at him before he walked away. Prompto turned back to him slowly, intentionally leaving the door open to prevent their earlier conversation from picking up again. With so many high-ranking glaives and council members living on this floor, the last thing Noct wanted to do was shatter their trust, or have rumours start.

“Like he said, you can come with us if you want to,” Prompto reminded him.

“No thanks. Too much work to do. Got a kingdom to run, like you said,” Noctis muttered, with a sarcastic wave of his arm. He strode out of the room with his cloak billowing behind him, leaving Prompto alone to battle silent tears.


	2. Braving the Distance

“You gonna finish that?” Gladio asked, noting the half-full mug of beer sitting in front of his friend. Prompto was slumped over the bar counter, his chin resting on his folded arms. Absentmindedly, he stared through the amber liquid. He tilted his head ever so slightly towards his ally and let his eyes lazily travel the rest of the distance to see him.

“Oh,” Prompto mumbled, realizing he’d been doing more staring than actual drinking over the past while. He didn’t have enough in him to dull the ache of his fight with Noctis—only enough to make him feel slightly more miserable than before.

“No, you can have it.” He pushed the mug towards Gladio, and continued to watch the liquid as it sloshed from side to side; it neared the rim of the cup, but settled down before any contents were spilled.

“You okay?” Gladio peered down at Prompto with worried eyes and crinkled brows. Prompto forced a tiny chuckle—one that was doused in pain and heartache—and sat up.

“Actually, no. I think I’m gonna head back.”

“By yourself? Looking like that? Nah-uh,” Gladio objected, taking in the sight of Prompto’s dark, tired eyes and the way he could hardly lift his own head up.

“I’m barely drunk, man. Just let me go,” he said, pushing himself off the barstool, but Gladio stood in his way, and Prompto realized just how big the _big guy_ was. He sidestepped, and headed for the exit, but Gladio forced his way in front of him again, hands reaching out for the younger man’s shoulders. He could see so much pain in Prompto’s eyes, and in his tight features. He couldn’t let him head out the door like that, not without getting the truth out of him. He was too worried.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on? We can ditch those other guys, just... talk to me,” Gladio said, gently. He could see the change in Prompto’s gaze as he spoke, the way his eyes began to shimmer, the way his chin began to tremble. He looked like he wanted to speak, but the threat of oncoming tears were hindering him.

“Gladio...” Prompto whimpered, lowering his head, and just barely holding back his emotions. “I... I don’t know what to do.”

“Come on. Let’s go over here,” Gladio offered, guiding Prompto to a secluded table in the corner of the bar, a giant hand resting comfortingly on his back as he led him over. This area of the bar was dimly lit and out of earshot of any other customers. Gladio pulled out a chair for Prompto, the one facing the wall so that no one would see him cry if tears _were_ to come.

Gladio sat down across from him once he had taken a seat, and once Gladio was sure he wouldn’t try to bolt—not like he’d get very far anyway. Gladio folded his hands on the table, waiting patiently for Prompto to speak. It took a while. The young man must have been fighting off sobs for a good thirty seconds before he got the first words out.

“I’m ruining everything with Noct,” he weakly explained.

“Come on, I’m sure you’re not,” Gladio said, and hoped Prompto would continue. His brows were curved upward in a sympathetic manner as he patiently listened.

Prompto found it a rare sight to see Gladio so quiet and open-eared, not gruffly interrupting to get in his two-cents worth. It was an opportunity that Prompto was willing to take advantage of, an opportunity that couldn’t have come at a better time. As much as he dreaded talking about this, he knew he would feel better if he did; besides, he’d promised Ignis he would if it became too much to handle.

“I’ve been avoiding him ever since he came back, ever since he brought back the sunlight,” Prompto went on, rubbing his arm and keeping his sad eyes pointed toward the table. “I didn’t want to get involved when... you know. I didn’t want him to get attached when everything’s gonna go to hell in the end. But knowing that he wants to be with me... It just makes it so much harder to stay away,” he said, with a shiver, and Gladio leaned forward in his chair, giving an understanding nod.

“What’d you tell him?”

“That I needed more time,” Prompto sniffed, trying to rein in his emotions, and succeeding for the time being.

“You told him you needed more time? When that’s exactly what you don’t have?!” Gladio frowned. He would have shouted those words if Prompto didn’t already look so vulnerable. He didn’t need a scolding when he was already on the verge of breaking down.

“Stupid, I know. I just don’t know what to do. I want to be with him, Gladio, but it wouldn’t be fair to him. He needs to find someone who can continue to rule by his side.”

“Ever think of just telling him?” Gladio asked, lowering his voice to a gentler tone than his previous comment. Prompto shook his head, his eyes looking even more tired all of a sudden, the skin beneath them appearing dark and bruised.

“He’s got enough on his plate trying to rebuild his kingdom. He doesn’t need something else to worry about.”

“My advice? Prince Charming’s going to be worrying about you whether or not you let him in on what’s going on. He already knows something’s up with you, the way you’ve been keeping your distance,” Gladio said, and Prompto nodded numbly.

It made sense, he knew, but dragging Noct down with his own troubles seemed like bad timing right now. Noct had just saved the world, had worked so hard to reconstruct his broken kingdom. He had dodged the prophecy that was meant to have taken his life, and had come back whole and alive and happy. Prompto couldn’t take that joy away from him. Noctis deserved time to revel in all that was good.

“I know I should, but... maybe I’m just not ready,” Prompto said, quietly.

“Well, you know I can’t force you,” Gladio sighed, and Prompto immediately looked up, a new glow of worry in his eyes as he realized he wasn’t the only one who could reveal the truth to Noctis.

“You won’t tell him, will you?”

“No,” Gladio promised. “It’s not my secret to tell.”

Prompto nodded again and wiped the last of his tears before they ever had a chance to fall. He had this feeling that he should be more grown up by now, that he shouldn’t be breaking down in the back of a bar. While he’d been with the hunters, he’d felt he _had _grown up, but Noctis always seemed to transport him back in time. He was a mere high school kid again, with a crush big enough to make headlines. It could hardly even be called an exaggeration; back in the day, the press _had_ managed to circulate a few rumours about them. All the more reason to step back now and let Noctis gain his people’s trust before any _new_ rumours started.

“T-thanks,” Prompto eventually stammered out.

“You still gonna head back to the Citadel?”

“Yeah.”

Gladio stood up, and Prompto did the same. The king’s Shield offered a small smile, but it contained the same sadness that lingered in his friend’s eyes.

“I’ll walk with ya,” Gladio kindly insisted.

* * *

Noctis was fuming when he entered his room. He charged forward, slamming the door behind him and heading directly for his desk where an enormous amount of paperwork sat waiting for him. He plopped himself down in his chair and reached for the papers, determined to make a point of ‘ruling his kingdom’, and taking care of all of the tedious tasks that went with it. It only took a few seconds before his vision began to blur with tears, and he furiously shoved the stack off his desk.

Pieces of parchment flew into the air, some plummeting straight to the floor while others floated down in graceful, back and forth motions. Noctis cursed under his breath and leaned his elbow against the desk, head falling into his palm as he replayed his earlier conversation with Prompto.

How had things gone so terribly wrong? He knew ten years was a long time, but if neither his nor Prompto’s feelings had changed, then why weren’t they clicking? Why wasn’t Prompto letting him anywhere near him? He tried to think back to their last encounter, before the crystal had ever taken him. They had rescued Prompto from his imprisonment in Zegnautus Keep. Had Noct not been kind or caring enough towards him? Was there more he should have said or done that day? Was it possible that Prompto thought so, too? He’d always feared it.

Noctis sighed. If he’d done something wrong, why wouldn’t Prompto just spit it out already? If he didn’t know what he’d done, how could he even begin to correct it? Unless there really _was_ someone else in Prompto’s life, and Prompto was trying to spare his feelings by not telling him so. But if that were true, would Prompto have kissed him so passionately that night in the caravan?

Sometimes Noctis found himself doubting whether it had happened at all. That night seemed so far away now, their closest encounter since being the one in Prompto’s room a mere half an hour before, when he and Prompto had shared the Galahdian drink. He wasn’t used to the distance, wasn’t used to them being at odds, as they had rarely ever fought. Thinking back, he could really only remember the incidents that had led him to snap that one time...

_***_

_“So, it’s more like a… marriage of convenience?” Prompto asked from the front seat of the Regalia, in response to the newscaster’s words over the car radio._

“_Her Ladyship seems nonetheless amenable to the prospect,” Ignis replied._

_ “And Noct here likes the idea,” Gladio added, jovially. Noct grimaced at him and let out a long, loud sigh; _in their dreams_, he liked the idea. Did they really believe that he was okay when they knew about him and Prompto? Was he really hiding his feelings so well that they couldn’t tell he wanted to puke his guts up every time anyone so much as mentioned Luna or the wedding?_

_ “What’s that?” Prompto playfully responded to the silence that followed. “I do?”_

“_Buzz off,” Noct snarled, not sure why Prompto would tease him like that. All it did was hurt his poor heart. __D__idn’t he know that?_

_***_

_“Wow. Still can’t believe you’re actually tying the knot, dude. How does it feel now that it’s finally happening?”_

_ “Fine, I guess?” Noctis replied, so Prompto wouldn’t know how much he was hurting, since it seemed Prompto wasn’t hurting at all. The fact that Prompto was even asking the question felt like another knife to the heart. Why did he sound so okay with it when Noct himself so wasn’t?_

_ “Ahh, come on! You can’t fool me! Any guy would be over the moon to marry her.”_

“_No big deal,” Noct waved him off, airily, unable to look him in the eye._

_ “Yeah… whatever,” Prompto sighed._

_***_

_“You reckon Aranea has a boyfriend?” Prompto asked, completely out of the blue as they sauntered through the streets of Lestallum, trying to find the broken steam valves under Holly’s instruction. Noctis frowned, a familiar stabbing pain grinding its way into his stomach. First Prompto’s infatuation with Cindy, now this? Back in high school, he’d thought Prompto only had eyes for him, and—perhaps selfishly—he’d hoped it would stay that way._

_ “She _is _surrounded by guys, but who knows?” Noct asked, successfully suppressing a sigh. If Gladio and Ignis hadn’t been tagging along, he most definitely would have cornered Prompto and given him a piece of his mind. He would have demanded why he was asking when they hadn’t called their own relationship off yet, even if its future did appear dismal. _

_Instead, he swallowed his frustration and simply asked, “Why? You fancy her?”_

_ “No! My interest is purely hypothetical,” Prompto replied, with a wave of his hand and a smirk at Noctis, earning only a glare in return._

_***_

_“Everyone looks so happy. And it’s all because of this one dress,” Prompto marvelled, admiring the dress in the glass store window._

“_Yeah,” Noct replied, simply, as uninterested as always with anything involving the wedding._

_ “Real glad for you that Lady Lunafreya is safe and sound,” Prompto said, but this time—finally—he sounded solemn. Unfortunately, Gladio felt that Prompto’s statement was the perfect opportunity to jump on the wedding bandwagon; if Prompto was finally letting his guard down and was ready to let Noctis go, why not push for it? _

_ “That settles it. You gotta make it happen—become a symbol of the peace. After we tie up the loose ends, let’s think about the ceremony.”_

_ “A fine idea,” Ignis added, and Noct felt another stab in his heart. Was everyone ganging up on him now?_

_ Irritated, he __strode __forward to get a better look in the window. There was the dress, __and next to it, Luna’s portrait__. Noct stared, trying hard to feel _anything _for her, some inkling of a romantic feeling, but he couldn’t. There was nothing. She was a stranger, a kid he’d only known years ago. Besides, even if she wasn’t, he’d never be able to love her the way he was supposed to… the way he loved Prompto. It just wasn’t in his makeup._

_ “Yeah, I’ll think about it,” he said, if only to get the others off his back for now. If anyone said anything else about it, he might just start weeping, and that was the last thing he wanted anyone to see, so he simply continued to stare at the glass until the possibility of tears had passed._

_***_

_That had been the last straw. After dinner that night, Ignis and Gladio went to stock up on some groceries so they could have a quick breakfast in the morning, and they allowed Prompto and Noctis to return to the Leville for some downtime. As soon as they were in the room, Noctis slammed the door behind him, startling Prompto._

_ “What the hell _was_ that today?” he demanded, voice trembling with a feebleness that Prompto had grown to hate, for it meant Noctis was terribly upset. He spun slowly to face the prince, who was slightly red in the face, his breathing hitching like he was going to cry._

_ “What?” he asked, wishing he didn’t have to. Making Noct explain what he meant would probably only upset him more._

_ “’Real glad she’s safe and sound?’ ‘Think I might still pull off a wedding?’ __Why would you even _think _about spewing shit like that?!__ I _don’t want _to get married!”_

_ “_ _I-I know, but—”_

“_I thought __the _one and only_ good thing about Insomnia falling was that __the wedding got called off, __and__ I was in the clear, so why is everyone still pushing for this? Especially you?!” Noct cried out, his hand waving relentlessly as he spoke._

_ “It’s what Eos wants, Noct! It seems like it would make a lot of people happy,” Prompto said, eyes sad and desperate and _sorry.

_“Everyone but me. I know __it’s__ selfish, but I’ve _always _been under someone else’s control. I didn’t ask to be a prince, I didn’t ask to be part of this obscure prophecy, and I sure didn’t ask to marry some girl I barely know!”_

_ “I know, Noct!” Prompto promised him, taking a step closer, his hands looking like they wanted to reach out for him, but were scared to._

_ “You always got that! You always knew how it felt to be stuck with things you couldn’t change, and made me feel like I wasn’t alone. So… why do I feel alone now? Like you don’t care what happens to _us?!” _Noct hollered, and Prompto pulled his hands back, the sharpness of his prince’s tone making him think twice about physical contact._

_ “I _do _care!” Prompto insisted, tearfully._

“_Then show it!” Noct cried, giving Prompto’s shoulders a shove, so hard that Prompto stumbled back a step. He gazed at Noctis with scared eyes, but when he saw the regret in Noct’s, he simply lowered his head, and listened as Noct began to quietly sob. There was a long pause before Prompto spoke again._

_ “The truth is, Noct… I’m just barely holding it together. You know me. Joking around is the only way I know how to cope with things sometimes,” Prompto murmured. He forced a glance up at Noct again, who was shamefully rubbing his arm, his gaze on the floor as he prayed for a way to take back his actions._

_ “The things I said about Cindy and Aranea, about Luna and the wedding... It was all my own weird way to prepare myself for what’s coming. I guess in some ways, I feel like it will make it easier… when the time comes, and we have to say goodbye for real,” Prompto went on. Noct still said nothing, his gaze fixed on the carpet of the hotel room. He swiftly wiped at his eyes with his arm, and felt Prompto move in against him, arms tentatively wrapping around him. They seemed to relax after a few seconds, when Prompto was sure Noct wasn’t going to shove him off again._

_ Noctis inhaled, but his breath went in with a shudder, and he felt Prompto’s gentle hand guiding his head onto his shoulder. Noct rested his chin there, and waited for the words he felt were coming._

_ “I’m sorry if you felt like I didn’t care. I do. I don’t want to lose you, either, believe me,” Prompto said, softly, holding back a whimper. Noct had never been good at words, nor apologies, so he simply nestled his nose in a little deeper against Prompto’s neck and let out another shaky breath as the young man he loved continued to hold him._

***

Noct let out a heavy breath as he got up from his chair, and began to gather up the papers that he had pushed off of his desk earlier. He and Prompto had still had an unbreakable friendship back then, and had maintained a beautiful relationship thereafter under much more difficult circumstances. Couldn’t they rebuild now? Shouldn’t it be easy now that the world was at peace?

Noctis’ thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. It sounded again before he was even halfway across the room.

“Hold on to your chocobos. I’m right here,” Noct grumbled under his breath, throwing the door open to see Gladio standing there with a perturbed look on his face. His arms were folded across his chest, the dent between his brows a clear sign of frustration.

“Mouthin’ off again, were ya?” Gladio growled, pushing his way into the room.

“Hello to you, too,” Noct huffed, shutting the door as Gladio headed for the edge of his desk, his arms remaining folded as he leaned there against it.

“Why are you bein’ so damn hard on Prompto? You know the kid’s had it rough this past while.”

“Yeah,” Noct chuckled bitterly. “Everyone keeps saying that, and yet nobody will tell me what the hell’s going on with him!” he said, his voice gaining volume as he went on.

“He’ll tell you when he’s ready!”

“So, you know something?! What’s he hiding?”

“I never said that! I said to cool it until he’s ready to talk!” Gladio raged, pushing himself away from the desk to stand up straight. Noctis glared upward as he towered over him, his fierce expression never faltering despite the height Gladio had on him.

“He’s had eight months to talk!” Noct went on.

“And he was away on assignment for most of that! What? You can’t keep it in your pants long enough to give him time to settle in here?”

“Hey!” Noct fumed. “You will _not _speak to me that way.” The king’s eyes were dark and powerful as he addressed Gladio now, and he watched his Shield back down, resuming his position against the side of the desk.

Noct breathed in and ran a hand through his long hair as he stumbled toward his bed. He sat down on the edge and let his arm fall back down to his side. He folded his hands in his lap, his gaze downcast and unfocused.

“I miss him, Gladio. And I don’t know what to do to win him back,” he said, his tone defeated.

“I know it sucks, but you gotta be patient. And apologizing might be a good start. He was pretty upset tonight,” the Shield said, and Noct glanced at the clock on his bedside table, realizing their evening of drinks hadn’t lasted long at all.

“Is he okay?” Noct asked, voice low and gentle, eyes travelling warily towards Gladio, who finally gave a sigh and let his anger fall by the wayside. Noctis was trying his best; he’d might as well, too.

“He will be. Give him tonight to think things over. Apologize tomorrow once you’ve both had some time to settle down,” he said, reaching over to give Noct a pat on the shoulder before he headed for the door. Noct continued to stare at his hands as Gladio left him to his thoughts, only looking up when the door clicked shut behind him.

Noctis’ eyes settled on a photo frame that sat upon his window sill. A picture of him and Prompto rested inside, one of Noct’s favourites from their journey. Their heads were pressed together as they grinned at the camera, the city of Lestallum all lit up behind them. It had been one of their only real date nights on the journey, when Gladio and Ignis had given them some free rein to roam by themselves, though it was more out of sympathy than anything else. Everything they had known and loved and believed in was falling apart, and they had deserved a little time to enjoy the nightlife. Noctis remembered it clearly—eating snacks by the fountain, listening to the musicians play; stargazing through the viewfinders at the lookout; warpstriking to the top of the Leville and kissing under the moon. They had been so young, so happy.

It was the photo Noctis had taken with him when he had entered the throne room to take down Ardyn, and it was those joyful memories of being with Prompto that had pulled him through that final battle. They had made it through so much together, lending each other their strength, leaning on each other for support. If they could make it through all those years, they could make it through the problems that were upon them now. Noctis would make sure of it.

* * *

Breakfast the next morning was particularly hard to get down. Noctis sat alone in the dining hall, the table seeming longer than ever, even now that he had fully grown. As a child, he’d always felt his father was too far away, the large expanse of shining black wood creating a great distance between them. Now that distance seemed impossibly big, as if his father had never existed in this hall at all.

Noctis felt hollow inside, like the food he swallowed wasn’t even finding its way to his stomach. He was already lonely, and knowing that he had to speak to Prompto today made it worse. Having Prompto back should have made this place feel more like home again, but everything felt off, so eery and dark. He had to make things right between them, even if his efforts remained one-sided for now.

To his surprise, his meal was interrupted by not a kitchen waiter, but rather Ignis, who knocked on the doorframe of the dining hall; Noct had gotten in the habit of leaving the door open to hear the hustle and bustle of his early morning workers, to prevent feeling so alone in the large room.

“Come in,” he coaxed, giving a wave that he forgot Ignis couldn’t see. He still wasn’t used to everything being so different in this place he’d called home. He missed the way Ignis’ eyes used to light up with pride when he looked upon him. He missed the sounds of Iris playing in the garden outside, and Clarus’ voice humming a little tune that put her to sleep at night. He missed his own father’s voice, even when it was muffled behind meeting room doors.

“We’ve received word of something that I think you’ll find rather unsettling,” Ignis announced, his voice containing hints of apology, even though Noctis doubted his advisor had anything to do with the cause.

“Oh, great. What is it?” Noct asked, sarcastically, seeming uninterested as he poked at his omelette with his fork.

“I think it best if we discuss it with the rest of the council.”

“Argh, can it wait?” Noct grumbled. “I have something I need to do this morning.”

“Something more important than your duties?” Ignis queried, and Noct scowled.

Technically, keeping good relations with his Crownsguard was part of his duty, wasn’t it? He wanted to get this Prompto business through with first so that he might actually be able to stop worrying and concentrate.

“It shouldn’t take long,” Noct answered, coyly avoiding the details of his other obligation. “Can we meet in an hour?”

“I don’t see why not, but no later. This isn’t something I want to ignore for long,” Ignis said, appearing a little displeased.

“Okay, okay,” Noct sang, waving him off, and stuffing another bite of omelette into his mouth. He tried not to cringe when he detected a sliver of onion on his tongue. Deciding to be an adult about it, he chewed and swallowed the vegetable, shivering only slightly as it went down. He let his fork fall to his plate with a clatter, which startled Ignis.

“Alright, enough of that. See you in a bit,” Noct said, abandoning his meal, not to mention scrapping any sense of formality this morning as he got up from the table. He reached for his napkin, quickly wiped his mouth and let the cloth fall onto his plate, before heading for the exit.

Ignis sighed, staring blindly after Noctis as he left, and he heard Umbra’s quiet whine as the messenger came to stand beside him. Ignis reached down, and stroked the top of the dog’s furry head, Umbra replying with some appreciative panting.

“What are we going to do with him, Umbra? I believe he still needs guidance,” Ignis uttered, worry evident in his voice. Umbra barked in response, letting the advisor know his words hadn’t fallen on deaf ears.

* * *

“Knock, knock,” came the king’s smooth and timid voice from the other side of the door. “Is it alright if I come in?”

Prompto gave a sigh, letting the shirt he was holding fall back into his suitcase. There was a dull ache in the pit of his stomach at the thought of facing Noctis, but he didn’t really have a choice, did he? He couldn’t simply ignore the king, even if he was his best friend. Could he still even call himself that? He hadn’t exactly been there for Noct as of late.

Prompto pushed the thoughts aside and grabbed the door handle, pulling it back to reveal Noct standing there in his kingly robes, looking rather dispirited. Prompto said nothing even as he stepped back to let him in, his lips pressed hard together, mostly in fear of how this conversation would unfold. Noctis gave a nod of thanks as he inched past Prompto and into the chamber. He took in the sight of the room, not sure if it was comforting to him or not. He couldn’t tell whether it looked more like Prompto was settling in or packing up to leave.

Clothes lay strewn about on the bed, some still half-draped over the side of his suitcase. The drawers of his dressers were open, with even more clothing hanging out over the sides, as if tossed there haphazardly. He wondered if Prompto himself was debating whether or not he would stay.

Noctis turned to his friend, who had softly closed the door behind him. Prompto was peeking up at him now with shy, nervous eyes that were partially hidden beneath long lashes. His head was low, his expression uncertain, and though Noct hadn’t seen Prompto display any lack of confidence since they’d met again as adults, the look he was wearing now was identical to ones he’d seen numerous times over the years. It was that look Prompto had worn when he was questioning his worth, when he was afraid he _had done_ or _would do_ something to disappoint Noctis, when he was just so painfully unsure of himself.

“I’m sorry about last night,” the king spoke up, meeting Prompto’s eyes. “I was trying too hard to push you into things that maybe you’re just not ready for yet.” Prompto still said nothing, his eyes flickering nervously from side to side, avoiding the king’s stare, so Noct ducked his head to better meet his gaze. “I was a jerk, I know. Prompto, please... say something?”

“You’re forgiven,” Prompto said, with a nod, and the smallest flicker of a smile Noct had ever seen; the upward quirk of the corners of his lips was so subtle, Noct wasn’t even positive it could be called a smile. Prompto proceeded toward his suitcase again, lifting out a pair of jeans and looking them over for damage before tossing them toward the dresser. Noctis let out a quiet breath of relief. If the clothing was still travelling in that direction, it probably meant Prompto was staying—for now, at least.

“Can I help you with anything? No offence, but this place looks as bad as my old apartment,” Noct chuckled hoarsely, the laughter clearly forced, but he also seemed careful not to overdo it, like he feared Prompto would take offence under the circumstances.

“I’m fine. I’ll put things away properly once I decide what’s worth keeping,” Prompto said, his eyes on his belongings now, rather than on his friend. It made Noctis uneasy. Prompto withdrew a brown t-shirt from the pile and held it up, easily spotting a few tears up near the collar. He balled it up and tossed it into the trash can under the desk. It seemed his aim hadn’t deteriorated over time. He still had the accuracy of a wicked gunman.

“Why are you throwing things out?” Noctis quizzed, bravely taking a few steps closer to Prompto and peering into the suitcase.

“Some of these things were fine for hunting, but aren’t really Citadel material. I’m sure you don’t want your Kingsglaive looking like slobs,” Prompto explained, simply. Prompto wasn’t being mouthy, but there was a coldness that still wrapped around his voice, and Noct wondered if it was a defence mechanism to keep him away. Prompto retrieved another pair of pants and carried them over to the dresser this time, folding them properly and setting them down in the drawer before reaching for the other pairs that were hanging there in disarray.

Meanwhile, Noctis’ eye was caught by a silver glimmer in the top section of Prompto’s suitcase, zipped inside a mesh pocket. He brushed a hand over it, finding two metal pieces that separated when he touched them. That was when he recognized them. Dog tags, just like the hunters had—like Dave, and so many others who had been killed in action.

“Wow,” Noctis marvelled softly.

“What?” came Prompto’s voice from behind.

“It never really occurred to me that you were a hunter,” Noct said, remembering all those hard-looking guys who had frequented the Meldacio HQ. Back then, Prompto had looked like a pipsqueak next to them, but now, on top of the fact that he had filled out and built so much muscle, Noctis could see that same hardness in his eyes that must have come from living in those conditions and seeing so much death.

He wondered how much those experiences had changed Prompto, and if they were partly to blame for the distance between them now. He shuddered to think of the things Prompto must have seen over the past ten years—victims of the Starscourge, violent deaths of hunters and friends, daemons taking over the places they had once visited and where they had captured so many joyful memories, and of course, that eternal darkness.

Noctis felt Prompto at his side, and he felt suddenly comforted to have him so close to him—safe and alive. Prompto reached for the pocket, and unzipped it, placing a brown cord necklace in Noctis’ hands, adorned with the two dog tags.

“Yep. Official hunter. A lot of the people I met there are now your glaives,” Prompto said, heading back towards the dresser to fix up the last of the trousers in the drawer. Noctis stared down at the first tag on his hand, and read the engravings in the metal.

_Prompto Argentum_

_ Home Base: Lestallum_

Carefully, he flicked the first tag out of the way to reveal the second one, his stomach clenching as he read it.

_Fighter Rank: *****_

_ Identification No.: 05953234_

Not only had Prompto been taking on the most difficult hunts, he had chosen the same number as the barcode on his wrist as his identification number. Was it possible that this was Prompto’s way of finally accepting himself, and that mark that he’d always felt had set him apart? Noctis hoped so.

With a glance behind himself to make sure Prompto wasn’t watching, he closed his fingers over the tags and brought his fist to his chest, holding them there with closed eyes. Images of finding these tags abandoned in the grass flooded into Noctis’ mind. So many times, he, Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio had had to recover tags just like these from fallen hunters, and he couldn’t bear to think about how he might have felt if Prompto hadn’t been there to greet him in Hammerhead eight months ago.

What if he, Gladio, and Ignis had had to put off going to Insomnia in order to search for Prompto’s tags? What if they had found the proof that their friend had died, the only evidence of him ever existing being two tiny pieces of metal buried beneath dirt or grass or rock? Noct brought the tags to his lips now, pressing a brief kiss against the knuckles that protected them, eyes remaining tightly closed. He couldn’t stand the thought.

“Everything okay?” Prompto asked, quietly. He’d turned around to see Noct’s head low, his shoulders hunched around himself, almost looking like he was trying to keep warm. Noctis jumped at the sound of the voice, and looked back at Prompto, hand returning to his chest. Prompto’s heart warmed a little at the sight; the cord of his necklace dangled from Noct’s fist, the dog tags apparently clutched in his hand which he had pressed close to his heart.

“I’m… I’m just glad you’re alive.” Noctis had stuttered over the first word as he pondered what to say, but the following words came easily, and there was nothing he could have said that would have better described what was in his heart. There was a twitch at the corners of Prompto’s lips, and Noctis couldn’t tell if Prompto was touched by those words or perturbed by them. He desperately hoped it wasn’t the latter.

“Me, too,” Prompto eventually said, pushing forth a tiny smile, but his voice was weak, his eyes wandering to the floor, away from Noctis’ gaze. Noctis tried to identify whatever he was feeling, wondering if Prompto was truly thankful to be alive, but decided he couldn’t tell for sure, and wasn’t convinced he wanted to know the answer anymore anyway.

“So, what’s with your barcode number? You used it for your identification?” Noct asked, changing the subject so that Prompto might stop wearing that unidentifiable expression. Thankfully, Prompto’s eyes flickered back up towards him, looking somewhat curious and surprised that Noct had posed the question.

“All hunters had to memorize their identification number, so I figured my barcode would be the easiest to remember,” Prompto said, simply. He didn’t sound bothered by the fact, which at least put Noct at some ease. It was comforting to know Prompto had finally come to accept the mark that had set him apart all his life. It made sense to use it for something positive. Noct himself had memorized that number long ago while lovingly tracing patterns on his partner’s tattooed wrist, so he was sure Prompto, too, would have no problem recalling it.

The day Prompto had told the group about his barcode, Noctis had played dumb, pretending for Ignis’ and Gladio’s sake that he didn’t know. Of course, he had never known the whole story behind it—only that Prompto was originally from Niflheim. Noctis had feared that telling his father or his Crownsguard about it would only mean trouble for his best friend. What if they deported Prompto? What if they turned against him, or decided they couldn’t trust him? Noctis had refused to let that happen, so he’d kept his mouth shut about it for years.

“You’re really fascinated with this hunter stuff, huh?” Prompto went on when he realized he’d lost his friend somewhere along the way. Noct’s gaze was distant, as he was clearly occupied by his thoughts.

“Oh, uh, no, I just find it… surreal, I guess? To think you were one of them,” Noctis explained, glancing back down at the tags in his hand. He held them up by the cord, letting them dangle and catch the light from the window, causing the top edges of the silver pieces to sparkle. Noctis’ arm reached slightly towards Prompto, who accepted the tags back with a gentle smile and a nod of thanks. Gracefully, he clasped them around his neck, feeling Noct’s eyes on him the whole time.

Noctis was in awe of him, of his beauty that seemed to have blossomed since their roadtrip days. He took in the sight of his closed eyes as his hands fiddled with the clasp at the back of his neck, his lashes long and a darker blond than he remembered, making them stand out against his light complexion. His face was wider now, his slender features filled out, giving him a strong jaw and a matured, masculine appearance. Although less prominent than they used to be, his freckles remained a comforting familiarity, and Noctis smiled as he admired them, knowing that no matter how much he had changed during their time apart, this was still his dear Prompto.

“If we’re being honest, those whole ten years were surreal. With you gone,” Prompto solemnly admitted. It took him a while to raise his head, but once it was high enough for their gazes to meet and lock, Noct swallowed hard. “And I know I haven’t said it enough, but I’m glad you’re alive, too, Noct. I really am,” Prompto continued, the corners of his lips curving upward slightly. Noctis nodded, unsure of what to do or say now. This was the first time he was absolutely certain that Prompto was glad of his return. Lately, he’d been doubting it, but it was nice to hear that he had been missed.

“You’re so grown up,” Noctis said, almost weakly, giving Prompto a smile.

“Oh man, is it my sappy speeches? ‘Cause I can try to stop those,” Prompto grinned, rubbing the back of his head. His actions in that moment so strongly reflected the boy from ten years ago that it made Noctis smile wholeheartedly.

“Don’t stop.” Noctis’ voice was so quiet, so velvety, his smile small and tender, almost like he wanted to say more with those two words. They made Prompto’s insides feel like they were curling up in the best of ways. If Noct had said that in much more intimate circumstances, he knew he’d have no choice but to oblige.

“So,” Prompto sang, voice cracking a little. He cleared his throat and shook his head, trying to make the awkward moment pass.

“Right. So,” Noctis said, eyes flickering around nervously as he realized he’d made Prompto uncomfortable. Or turned on. Maybe both. “Ignis is calling another meeting in a little under an hour. I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah. Okay,” Prompto said slowly, his eyes focused on the carpet. He rubbed his opposite arm timidly. “But, you know, Noct. You don’t have to keep me on the council if you don’t want to.”

Those words made Noctis pause, a deep frown nestling between his brows.

“‘The hell makes you think I don’t want you on the council?”

“N-nothing. What I mean is, I’m just another one of your many protectors now. It’s not like it’s only the three of us anymore,” Prompto shrugged. “If you think there’s someone more suited for the job, that’s fine.”

“Prompto,” Noctis addressed, taking a step forward. Their eyes locked as Noctis courageously reached out for Prompto’s hands, holding them loosely enough that Prompto didn’t feel trapped. He had the option to escape, but he didn’t take it.

“Do you still _want_ to be here?” The frown on Noctis’ face had warped the other way, his brows now curved up into a sad look of longing.

Prompto bit his bottom lip. Everything he had done in the past ten years had been for Noctis—fighting for the light, for the people who needed help to survive the darkness, for hope. To be honest, everything Prompto had done since he was a child had been for Noct, since the day he’d received that letter from Lady Lunafreya, which had indicated the young prince was in need of a friend. He had bettered himself, had made himself feel worthy of a prince’s friendship.

Of course, he wanted to stay here. He was comfortable here, _soothed_ even, to be this close to Noctis, but for the first time he found himself wondering whether it was really fair. Was it fair to stay when Noctis wanted to close the distance between them, and Prompto wouldn’t let him? Was it selfish to stay because being far away from Noct altogether was simply too hard? This was the first time in so long that Prompto could say he was home—back in Insomnia, with Noctis alive and well. Noctis had always been home to him, so even though his brain wanted to answer with an, ‘_I don’t know_,’ he couldn’t lie to his heart. He wanted to be here, despite how difficult it was.

“I do,” he promised, those two words transporting Noctis to the wedding altar in his head, but he quickly purged the thought, knowing it was a distant dream at the moment. Before he knew it, Prompto was brushing his thumb lightly over the backs of his hands. The contact only lasted a second or two before Prompto slowly pulled away, letting his hands drift back down to his sides, and pulling away the last of Noct’s fantasy with them.

“Good, because I want you on the council. I want you _here_,” the king emphasized, giving Prompto a soft smile, but missing the contact of their previously linked hands.

Prompto could have had anything he wanted from him, and he would have willingly given it, so why was he only taking longing glances? Why was Prompto giving him those sad stares that made him think he wanted more, and yet, he never dared to make a move, or let Noctis’ advances linger? It seemed he was holding himself back, and Noctis—for the life of him—couldn’t understand it.

“Thanks, buddy,” Prompto uttered, his smile small but genuine. Noctis gave him a nod before heading for the door.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” he announced, but he halted as his eye was caught by the brown t-shirt hanging half-way out of the waste basket. He hesitated—knowing Prompto was probably watching him, but deciding he didn’t care—before walking over to it, and reaching for the garment. He pulled it out, catching a whiff of Prompto’s scent as he pulled it against his chest. It was a mix of his cologne and shampoo that always reminded Noctis of peaches, though Prompto had always denied using such a product.

“Hey, you mind if I keep this?” Noctis asked, running a hand along the frays in the fabric. Prompto’s eyes were locked onto him when he turned back around. A warmth settled in Prompto’s heart to see his friend clutching his shirt like that. Noctis was putting himself on display, letting Prompto know that he was willing to settle for any little piece of him he could get. It made Prompto feel so unbelievably loved.

“Of course, you can, buddy. Anything you want there is yours.”

“Thanks,” Noct murmured, holding the shirt close against him as he headed for the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the support I've been receiving so far on this story!! The feedback has been so much more than I was expecting, so thank you all for your kudos, comments, views, and general love of the first chapter!! I hope you enjoyed the second one as well, and that you continue to enjoy reading. :)


	3. Ballrooms and Breakdowns

Prompto’s entrance to the meeting room was much more elegant this time around. He was far less disheveled, had managed to get there with time to spare, and with no papers threatening to fall from his hands. Prompto felt better in his Kingsglaive uniform today than he had in a long time, and he suspected Noctis’ earlier words had helped to counter that feeling of not belonging—that fear that he no longer had a place in his best friend’s world, because of the secrets he was keeping.  
  
But Noctis was glad he was alive, was glad he was on the council, was glad he was here. And maybe, for now, that was enough. It was enough to make him stay, and continue helping the king rebuild his kingdom.

“If the young glaives are here again, it must have to do with their recent mission with Prompto, does it?” Noctis asked, from the head of the table.

“Not exactly, but I thought they might provide some insight as to why this has happened, and whether they experienced negativity from anyone during their trip,” Ignis replied.

“What does that mean?” the king frowned.

“Well, Iris, tell us what you know,” Ignis announced.

“Alright.” There was a suppressed sigh in Iris’ voice, a sorrowful sort of tone, which for the first time since Ignis had mentioned the meeting, made Noctis worry. The girl brought forth a piece of paper that had been resting in her lap, under clenched hands. It was torn at the edges, marred with dirt and black ink that had soaked right through the page.

“We received a threat this morning. It was found outside the front gates,” Iris told the council, pushing the parchment into the centre of the table for everyone to see. Several people stood up to get a better view. Prompto’s stomach twisted at the sight of Noctis’ name scrawled on that page, all in capital letters, in someone’s angry, messy handwriting:

_You may sit on the throne, but you are not our king._

_Your father put you before his people, and we don’t doubt you would do the same for a loved one._

_You may have brought back the sunlight, but we haven’t healed from the darkness._

_Sleep with one eye open, King Noctis. Galahd hasn’t forgiven you yet._

“It’s just a letter. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” Noctis said, calmly, and Prompto looked up to verify whether or not there was any hint of fear in his eyes. He didn’t see any.

“You believe it’s an empty threat?” Cor questioned. Noctis shrugged.

“It’s possible.”

“What concerns me is their use of the words ‘our’ and ‘we’. It would seem whoever is doing this is not acting alone,” Ignis spoke up.

“Unless it’s just their way of talking big,” Gladio added, folding his arms across his chest as he considered the possibility.

“That’s not all. After this letter turned up, I did some digging. Apparently, signs of resistance are popping up all over the place,” Iris said, producing a few more papers from her lap. These ones looked to have been recently printed, as she had researched the info herself earlier that morning.

“People seem to be trying to form resistance groups against you, even on the net, Noct,” Iris said, pushing the papers into the centre of the table again.  
  
Right now, Noctis couldn’t be bothered to read the conversations between these anonymous haters, and Prompto simply couldn’t stomach it. He couldn’t bear to think of anyone trying to hurt Noctis, or attempting to destroy the city they were working so hard to make whole again.

“So, we shut ‘em down. Get the authorities on it, Iris, and they should take care of it right away,” Noctis instructed.

“Galahd, I can understand. They’ve had their grudges with us since Niflheim took over. And Gralea, yeah, I guess not everyone’s happy about losing their Emperor. But why is resistance popping up in some Lucian regions? Or Altissia, for that matter. I thought you said Claustra was good with us,” Gladio said, turning his gaze from the papers to address Prompto. Prompto’s eyes widened at the sudden attention, and he sat forward, giving a confident nod.

“She _was_, but... I guess she can’t control the minds of all Altissian citizens. I mean, it would be crazy if she could.”

“And people might still be bitter about how everything went down with Leviathan. They did lose a lot that day,” Dustin added, regretting his words when he saw the look of sharp pain that took over Noctis’ features. That day in Altissia all those years ago, Luna had tried to cover for Noctis, had told the public it was her idea to awaken the Hydrean, all for the sake of keeping him safe and keeping the fact that he was still alive a secret, but the truth had been long since come to light.

“Still bitter?” Elea spoke up, raising a skeptical brow. “Ten years is a long time to hold a grudge, especially after so many people came together in Lestallum to bring back that power,” the glaive went on, knowing first-hand how powerful the connections between everyone had been at that time. They had all leaned on each other so much for support, had done all they could to help out and make the world safer.

“Ten years. It’s not really all that long. It depends on how you look at it,” Prompto mused, quietly. There was something in his tone that made Noctis uneasy, some hint of sadness, or longing, but he couldn’t identify exactly what it was. Still, it was enough to keep his worried eyes on Prompto even as the next person began to speak.

“So, all of that travelling… was it all for nothing?” Fae asked gently, her eyes darting to Prompto. They shared a sorry and defeated glance.  
  
They had tried their best to make good connections with all of the different regions; they’d thought they had, but like Prompto said, even a strong leader couldn’t control the minds of its people. Not to mention the fact that leaders these days were often of common status, put in charge by the popular vote of the community. Their main purpose wasn’t to know how to rule, but rather to merely be a face of authority to put people’s minds at ease. Niflheim had no Emperor, Tenebrae had no Oracle. As far as actual monarchs went, Noctis was the last, and even he had barely survived long enough to be able to make that claim.

“I don’t believe it was for nothing,” Ignis stepped in, folding his hands in front of him on the table. “Making alliances with other regions was something that needed to be done anyway. Now, all we can do is try to strengthen those bonds, which is why, Noct, it might be in your best interest to plan a voyage yourself.”

“Wouldn’t that be a tad too dangerous when a resistance is forming?” Cor asked.

“It is _because _the resistance is only in its infancy that I believe this is the right time. The king will be much safer now than he would be later on, if we cannot stop the resistance from gaining more recruits and making solid plans,” Ignis went on.

“In that case, your Highness, you should choose one of your glaives to accompany you on this voyage. A small party will no doubt raise less suspicion,” Cor said.

“And you should probably take someone who has already made connections with the leaders,” Gladio added.

Noctis perked up at the sound of that, his eyes travelling immediately to Prompto who, to his dismay, ducked under his gaze, making himself look smaller as he slouched in his seat, his attention on the table rather than anywhere near the king. Noctis swallowed that harsh sting of rejection, the one that he’d been getting a lot lately, to the point where it was really starting to hurt his feelings. He pushed his gaze to continue along the table, finding the next candidate who also happened to meet the qualifications.

“Fae. You will accompany me, please,” Noctis announced, and Fae looked rather bewildered before she gave him a considerate nod, closing her eyes and placing a hand over her chest as she bowed.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Excellent. The Marshal and I will begin making preparations for your departure. Hopefully this plan can come into motion by the end of the week. Everyone, please do not inform others of this voyage, as we would like to keep it as confidential as possible for the sake of the king’s safety,” Ignis announced.

Finally, Prompto dared a glance up, figuring Noctis’ attention must be elsewhere by now, but he was met with a pair of cold, blue eyes. They were full of hurt and confusion, but Noct refused to show those vulnerabilities for long. He tore his gaze away, his nose rising into the air in an arrogant manner, making Prompto continuously slink down further in his seat; thankfully, Ignis dismissed them from the meeting before he hit the floor.

* * *

The Great Hall was louder than usual when Prompto headed down for dinner, which, on top of the already growing stress, gave him a pounding headache. He got in the lineup, filled up his tray, and went to find a seat along one of the two long dining tables, which ran at least thirty feet down the room. Even despite the fact that Noctis didn’t have quite as many Kingsglaive as his father had, the room still held an abundance of glaives now, all dressed in uniform, as was expected of them when reporting for their posts or meals. Prompto somehow doubted that Noct was the one who had chosen to keep this rule in place, as he seemed much more relaxed about such things. It was more likely that Ignis or Cor had argued to keep uniform as a requirement.

Prompto looked up from his sandwich to see a glaive before him, and it wasn’t until she sat down that he realized he was probably about to get an earful. Fae’s head was tilted forward, but her emerald eyes were pointed up at him, looking unimpressed. Prompto swallowed, and pushed forth one of his standard grins.

“Hey, girl, good to see ya.”

“Why did you do that in the meeting?” Fae asked, voice serious.

“Do what?”

“You were avoiding King Noctis’ gaze so he wouldn’t pick you.”

“I did no such thing!” Prompto squawked, raising his nose up into the air, feigning hurt.

“Yes, you did,” Fae rolled her eyes, before resting her arms on the table and leaning forward so she could speak more quietly, suspecting this conversation would quickly turn into something Prompto wouldn’t want to be overheard. “Why didn’t you want to go with him?”

“Well, you know. I don’t know if now is the best time,” Prompto sighed, setting his sandwich down, and playing with the edge of a lettuce leaf that threatened to fall out of it.

Fae had known about his feelings for Noctis for a while now. It had been back in their hunting days that she had discovered who he was: that he had been one of Noctis’ personal guards. That bit of knowledge had sparked her memory regarding an old newspaper article, one that had piqued a lot of people’s interest years ago. After the prince had been spotted on several occasions in particularly close proximity to a blond teen his age, it had been rumoured that the two might share more than just a deep friendship.

When Fae had first carefully inquired about the matter, Prompto had playfully shrugged it off, not wanting to drag a kid down with such personal affairs. After she’d found him drunk and devastated one night after a hunt, however, he had been upfront with her, realizing she was one of the few people in his life at that point that he could trust. She admired him, looked up to him, and Prompto felt confident that this information would not shake her.

“The best time for what? What are you waiting for?” she asked, and this time there was worry in her eyes, for she, too, knew that time was a concern. Prompto shied away from her gaze again, pulling the lettuce right out of his sandwich, which only left mayonnaise and mustard coming out in a sloppy mess. He tried to correct it as a distraction, pulling the top piece of bread off and attempting to stuff the leaf back in.

“Prompto,” Fae addressed, desperately, and Prompto shyly brought his gaze up to meet hers. Her brows were tilted upward, her lips pressed tightly together. “I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to regret not spending more time with the king.”

“I know,” Prompto said, and let out a soft chuckle. Finally, he left the sandwich alone, and leaned back in his chair. “Thank you for caring so much, but I don’t think I’m ready for this. Besides, you’re just as qualified to go on this voyage as I am.”

“Oh, right. Because I’ve spent an extended period of time alongside the king as one of his personal Crownsguard,” Fae sarcastically grumbled.

“Okay, okay, you’re right, but you’re still an excellent fighter, and you’re as devoted to Lucis as I am, and... Look, I’m just not ready. Can we leave it at that?” Prompto pleaded, eyes begging her. Fae nodded, but looked both stern and dejected as she drew her attention to her lunch. Despite the chatter throughout the hall, Fae and Prompto ate the rest of their meal together in silence.

* * *

Prompto took the long way back to his room after dinner. Instead of heading straight for the ground floor elevator, he went in the opposite direction down the long hallway, which eventually turned a corner leading to another corridor. About halfway down this corridor was a set of double doors, and a series of arched windows on either side. Prompto paused when he reached them, and stepped closer until he could lean his head against the glass. Longingly, he peered inside.

He had only been in the room once, and while the memory was clear enough for it to have been yesterday, it also felt like a lifetime ago. It was hard to believe he’d been so young and carefree dancing with Noctis in that very room, feeling like they were the only two people in the world, and Prompto feeling, for once, like he was _important._

Shaking his head, Prompto pulled away, but he continued only a few steps down the hallway before reaching for the iron bar door handle instead. The door was heavy as he dragged it open, feeling like he was opening a door to the past, which was equally difficult to face. He walked inside, hearing the door slide shut behind him, and he gave himself a moment to take it all in.

Everything was just as he remembered—the tall ceilings, the shiny black walls with grey and gold trim, the candelabras that hung from the ceilings and walls, the shimmering patterned floor. Prompto breathed in, closing his eyes, and as he felt himself falling into the memories—his own, as well as those Noctis had shared with him—he stumbled over to one of the window sills and sat down, allowing himself to drown just for a moment.

* * *

_Noctis shut his locker, only to have his friend appear behind the door as he slammed it. Noct jumped back, startled, but quickly recovered at the sight of Prompto’s unnaturally wide grin._

_ “What are you smirking at?” Noct queried, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smile. Prompto lifted his hands out in front of him, his fingers clutching either side of the colourful school newsletter. Noctis rolled his eyes, fully aware now of what the upcoming conversation would be about._

_ “Change your mind yet?” Prompto asked, waving the paper enthusiastically._

“_About going to prom? Why do you want to go so badly, anyway?” Noct sighed, reaching down to scoop up his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. They started side-by-side down the hall, Prompto pocketing the newsletter and waving his hands while he spoke._

_ “Come on, Noct! It’s like a rite of passage for kids our age.”_

“_Isn’t _graduation _the rite of passage__?”_

_ “Prom is a _part_ of graduation. C’mon, whaddaya say?” Prompto prodded, leaping forward a few steps so he could walk backwards in front of Noct. He could keep his eyes on him that way, and make him less likely to dodge his questions entirely, like he was so good at doing._

_ Noct sighed, and thought back to the conversations he’d had with his father weeks ago. He had been timid to interrupt his work, but with a small knock on the meeting room door, he had peeked inside. _

_"Dad? I’m sorry to interrupt, but can I speak to you about something when you’re done?"_

_Clarus and Drautos had been in the middle of a meeting with the king, and their eyes travelled to Regis to await his response. Noctis rarely interrupted Regis’ work for anything, so he knew it must be a matter of importance that had brought his son here._

"_Come in, Noctis. We were just finishing up."_

_D__rautos looked slightly unimpressed, but he and Clarus got up nonetheless and said their goodbyes before leaving the two in peace. Noctis_ _ took_ _ a seat adjacent to his father, though he appeared rather uncomfortable doing so. Regis waited patiently for _ _the young prince_ _ to find his confidence, his gentle _ _greyish-green_ _ eyes ever watchful, and gnarled hands folded gracefully in front of him._

_"So, our school prom is coming up, and Prompto has been hinting that he’d really like to go. I know I’m probably not allowed, but I just thought I’d ask… if he and I could go together?" Noct avoided his father’s gaze the majority of the time he had been speaking, _ _but_ _ he had _ _at least_ _ noticed his father’s expression soften at the words ‘not allowed’. Now, when he looked up, there was guilt _ _in _ _his eyes._

_"Noctis, son, you know I want you to experience all you can, and that I only want the best for you," Regis started, and Noct shied away from his touch when he tried to reach for his hand. This was a speech he’d heard so many times, it hardly meant anything anymore. Noctis folded his arms across his chest, and flopped back in his chair coldly._

“_Yeah. Got it.”_

“_Noctis, I did not yet give you an answer,” Regis said, his tone containing only a hint of scolding for his son’s cheek, though Noctis probably deserved more. Noctis raised a brow, his head still low, but his eyes darting to his father for further explanation. Regis let out a soft breath, and tried to reach for his son’s hand again. Noctis grudgingly allowed it to be tugged __out__ from against his chest._

“_As much as it would please me to give you a simple ‘yes’, we must be cautious that we don’t give the press nor Niflheim any ammunition to use against you. So, please, let me think on it,” he said, with a kind wink, that made Noctis realize he was on his side._

_Of course, once the council got wind of it—Noctis blamed Drautos for that one—most votes were _not_ in favour of the prince taking another young man of common birth to a high school dance. And so, Noctis was forced to obey the rules, and would have been happy to skip the stupid prom altogether if Prompto hadn’t wanted to go so badly; knowing that he did made it impossible for Noctis to ignore the guilt in the pit of his stomach._

“_You know we won’t be allowed to... you know, be each other’s dates,” Noct said, quietly, lowering his head as he came back to reality, __f__ingers__ tapping nervously against his locker__. His eyes darted from side to side, making sure he hadn’t been overheard._

_ “Yeah, I know. The rules of royalty,” Prompto sighed, voice solemn. “But it’d still be fun to go.”_

_ “Why? It’s just another event where I’m forced into formal wear.” Noct looked unimpressed when he spoke this time, wondering if he could maybe turn Prompto off of the idea, but Prompto smiled at the sight of his distaste._

_ “But it looks so good on ya,” he winked, and he knew by the flustered look on Noct’s face that he’d found that little gesture quite irresistible. Noct cleared his throat as they continued to walk. He stole another glance at Prompto, who still wore a hopeful smile, but it was obviously fading._

_ Parties had never been Noct’s cup of tea, having been to so many formal events through his royal obligations, but this was more than just a party, and it was more than just a little bit important to his friend. Ever since Noctis had known Prompto, the poor boy had been searching for ways to belong, and Noct would be damned if he let Prompto feel left out now because of him._   
  
_It wasn’t a huge sacrifice. One night. A few hours of mingling. He could certainly do that for the guy he loved more than the moon and stars, even if they wouldn’t be experiencing it exactly the way they wanted to._

“_Tell you what,” Noctis said, as they made their way through the double doors. They came to a halt in the courtyard, just outside the exit. “I’ll go with you for a little bit, as long as you come back to the palace for the night afterwards. We can spend some time together, hang out,” he suggested, remembering the offers his father had made him after he’d delivered the bad news that they couldn’t go as dates. They had seemed like stupid suggestions at the time, lame ways to try and make up for the night he and the council had ruined, but now they sounded much better than nothing._

“_Sounds good to me,” Prompto smiled. Both jumped at the sound of a car horn, and they glanced over to the side of the road where Ignis was parked and waiting. He stared at the boys patiently, but Noct didn’t like to keep him waiting, especially when he still wasn’t sure how his Crownsguard felt about his ‘significant other’. _

_ “That’s my ride. I’ll see you later?” Noctis’ hand slipped into Prompto’s just long enough to give it a tender squeeze, then he headed for the car with a wave._

_ “Yeah, see ya!” Prompto waved wildly back, before reaching into his pocket for the newsletter. He scanned the vibrant print, and smiled to himself. The shopping district wasn’t far from the school. If he headed there now, he might have time to find something to wear before the stores closed._

* * *

_Two weeks, three days, and four hours later, Noctis was holding the door of the luxurious black limousine open for Prompto, who gave him a grin as he climbed inside. Like a true gentleman, Noctis had picked Prompto up right at the door to his home. From there, the plan was to return to the Citadel so King Regis could see them off._

“_Ridin’ in style. I like it. You’re so chivalrous,” Prompto sang as Noct closed his door __for him, then proceeded to__ the other side __of the car __to get in._

“_Don’t get too used to it,” Noctis smirked, and Prompto chuckled, knowing full-well that his lazy slob of a boyfriend would be back to __his usual self __tomorrow._

“_Well, I’ll just enjoy it while I can,” Prompto said, airily. _

_ It wasn’t until they were back on the road and away from the _ _bright city lights_ _ that Noctis reached for one of his hands in the darkness, pulling it into his own. Prompto looked at him with curious eyes._

“_You look good,” Noctis smiled, softly. It was true. It looked like he had spent extra time on his hair, as it was styled to perfection, and his black suit and tie looked like it fit his slim figure perfectly. Prompto blinked in surprise, and turned his head back toward the seat in front of him._

“_R-really? Thanks,” he beamed. Noct__is__ squeezed his hand, bringing his gaze back to him, his blue-grey eyes so gentle. __Yes, Prompto_ _had __been warned not to get too attached to this gentle, chivalrous Noct, but he would gladly get used to him if he_ did _want __to stick around._

“_You clean up good, yourself.” Prompto’s gaze was equally gentle as they stared at each other. Noct leaned in, and two pairs of smiling lips met, eyes drifting slowly open when they eventually pulled away. Noctis brushed his fingers through the back of Prompto’s hair in thanks before they drew their attention to the road ahead._

_Ignis watched them in the rear view mirror, adjusting it enough to spot their linked hands resting in the seat between them. He had caught them in a similar position the first time he had begun to suspect their ties went beyond friendship. He had been driving them home from a concert one night. The two of them had been drained from a night of singing and cheering, and had fallen asleep in the backseat, their hands linked, and Prompto’s head on Noct’s shoulder, still dressed in their band t-shirts and ball caps that they had purchased earlier that evening. Ignis looked on them fondly now, with far less confusion and far more compassion. The prince deserved to be happy for once._

_They arrived at the Citadel before they knew it. Ignis drove through the circular courtyard and came to a halt in front of the main steps._

“_Take your time. I will wait here,” he said, and Noctis uttered a thanks as he went around to get Prompto’s door again. He held it open, and Prompto grinned sheepishly as he got out. Noct closed the doo__r__, and turned to Prompto with anxious eyes._

“_You ready for this?”_

“_As ready as I’ll ever be,” Prompto shrugged, but he still wore a smile. He was nervous as ol’ heck as he and Noctis ascended the steps together, his heart beating a mile a minute. This was the first time he was meeting the king, and he was thankful that he was at least dressed to the nth degree. First impressions were everything, after all._

_Prompto was led into a huge lobby, with a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The tile floors were spotless, shimmering in the light, just like he remembered them. Prompto had only been here once before, one summer when Noctis had invited him to come and stay a week with him. They had lounged in Noctis’ room almost the entire time playing video games and watching movies, only surfacing to get something to eat before returning upstairs, taking plenty of snacks with them. Noctis had also taken him up to the top balcony of the Citadel, where Prompto had snapped pictures of the gorgeous sunset with Noct at his side, watching their beautiful city being painted with pink and orange below._

_ “I just need to text my dad. Let him know we’re here,” Noctis informed him, digging his phone out of the convenient inside pocket of his suit jacket._

_ “No need. I’m here,” Regis called from down the hall, as he and Clarus emerged from the elevator. Prompto swallowed his fear, silently telling himself that everything was okay, that the king would like him because Noctis liked him._

_King Regis looked different in person than he did on television. Instead of tall and powerful, he was hunched with gentle eyes, a cane in his hand as he made his way through the hall and into the lobby. Clarus gave a tender smile to the boys as well, and Prompto forgot to breathe until Noctis took his hand. Eyes met, Noctis’ expression soft and encouraging, and Prompto managed a smile of his own, which lingered even after Noct let go. He could do this. He was okay._

“_Prompto, it is such a pleasure to meet you,” Regis greeted, reaching out to shake his hand._

“_And you as well, __Your Majesty__. I’m honoured,” he said, sticking out __his left hand by accident__. He panicked when Regis chuckled lightly and tried to switch his cane to his other hand. Prompto internally kicked himself; why now, of all times__, __had he made that mistake__?  
  
He squeaked out an apology before shoving his right hand out instead, __managing to do so __before Regis could shift his cane around, and __the king__ shook it with a fond smile. He continued to __grasp__ Prompto’s hand __tightly,__ in a hold that was strong, but caring._

“_I’ve heard much about you, Prompto. All good things, might I add,” the king announced, his voice __smooth and__ kind._

“_Phew, that’s good to hear. And I-I mean, you as well. Noctis has told me all about you. Good things,” Prompto grinned, feeling his face heat up. Not all the stories Noctis had told him about his father had been good ones; he’d had his fair share of complaints, too. Prompto just hoped the king couldn’t see that written on his face._

“_Well, I won’t tie up your evening too much. I know you’re eager to attend your prom,” Regis said, turning to Clarus, who handed over a white box, which Regis traded him for his cane._

“_Noctis?” Regis summoned._

“_Right.” Noctis stepped forward, and Regis opened the box for him. Prompto tried to peek at what was inside, but he couldn’t see with his friend’s back in the way. _  
  
_Noctis turned around soon enough, holding out a small bundle of vibrant yellow flowers on a pin. Noctis’ years of lessons in etiquette and princely behaviour had paid off; he could certainly pull out all the stops when he actually felt like it._

“_A boutonnière for you, sir, made with Lucis’ finest saffron crocuses and baby’s breath,” Noct announced, as he headed towards Prompto, whose surprised eyes met Noctis’ calm ones.  
  
With a smile, and a quiet ‘May I?’ Noct reached for Prompto’s collar and pinned the boutonnière in place. When he finished, his hands lingered on Prompto’s chest for a moment—not long enough that __they would__ feel awkward in front of his father, but just long enough to make Prompto feel like he was special and loved._

“_Wow, it’s beautiful, Noct,” he awed, gazing down at the flowers and running his fingers over the satiny petals. “I’m… such a dork, though. All my time gawking over magazines and working with the prom committee, and I didn’t even think to get you one,” Prompto stuttered out, his flush increasing when he heard Regis and Clarus chuckle softly._

“_No need to fret, Prompto,” Regis assured him._

“_He’s right. I got Specs to pick out a couple of different ones, and I thought you’d like the yellow best. I’ll wear this one,” Noctis affirmed, heading back towards his father. He picked the other boutonnière out of the box—this one with light blue crocuses. __Carefully, he b__egan to pin it on himself._

“_Wait, let me at least put it on __for__ you,” Prompto rushed in, taking the flowers into his trembling fingers, and being c__autious__ not to stab himself with the pin as he fastened it to Noctis’ jacket. Thankfully, it went smoothly, with no injuries, nor embarrassing mistakes to report._

“_Such fine young gentlemen, Regis,” Clarus commented, with a smile that __made __wrinkles_ _appear __beside his eyes. It was a warm smile._

“_Yes, they are,” Regis agreed, fondly._

“_Hey, um, you mind if we get a picture together?” Prompto asked, reaching for the camera strap on his shoulder, eyes uncertain as he addressed Noctis. He wasn’t sure whether photography was allowed in the Citadel, especially by someone who wasn’t a reporter, but Noctis nodded confidently._

“_Sure.” They were about to lean in for a selfie when the king spoke up._

“_Would you like me to take it for you?”_

“_O-oh! S-sure, yeah. Even better,” Prompto beamed, nervously.  
  
He trotted over to the king, and handed over his camera, giving him a few quick instructions on how to adjust the viewfinder, make sure the picture was in focus, and __click the shutter__. He quickly made his way back over to Noctis, and stood beside him with his arms behind his own back, feeling very self conscious now about showing too much affection, but Regis simply shook his head._

“_No, no, get in close, now,” he coaxed, waving a hand to usher them together. Noctis met Prompto’s nervous gaze with an amused shrug, and stepped closer, his arm making its way around Prompto’s waist, and Prompto decided to do the same. They smiled at the camera—Prompto __g__iving a __wide__ grin, albeit a bit more anxious __than his usual one__, and Noctis with a closed-lipped, __but sincere__ smil__e._

“_That’s it. Perfect,” Regis practically cheered, and Clarus nodded in agreement._

“_Very nice, indeed.”_

“_Now, I’ll be expecting a copy of one of these when you get them printed, Prompto,” Regis said, with a stern look in his eyes, but a teasing smile that let Prompto know he meant well. Prompto accepted his camera back from the king, and held it tightly against his chest._

”_Yes, sir! I can do that,” __h__e smiled._

* * *

_After taking a few goofy photos outside the school, they found themselves standing near the wall of the school gymnasium. Prompto’s hips swayed loosely to the booming bass line, and he glanced around at his schoolmates’ dancing, a cup of fruit punch in hand. He took a sip every now and then, in between having to avert his eyes from some of the more inappropriate ‘dancing’ in which some of his classmates were taking part._

_ Noct, too, was a little disgusted by the lack of etiquette from his peers. This was a nice event, and the teachers and prom committee—Prompto included—had done a good job of decorating the place and making sure everyone would have a safe and enjoyable time. Of course, that didn’t stop some guys from trying to get themselves under the girls’ poofy skirts, nor did it stop the girls from letting them do so._

_ It wasn’t like Noct didn’t think Prompto looked incredible in his spiffy black suit and bowtie, nor was he opposed to getting him out of it later, but events like this—at least in his experience as a prince—called for proper behaviour. Noctis may have been a slob at his apartment, and a lazy bum when he felt like it, but he could also be a gentleman, and that was what Prompto deserved. He had put too much of his heart into painting that banner that was now a backdrop for people’s makeout spot. He had put too much work into pinning all those coloured streamers to the tables, tables that people were now drunkenly spilling drinks all over. Noct despised the amount of disrespect. Prompto had been too excited for this to end in disappointment._

_ “It’s not quite what I was expecting,” Prompto mused, glancing over at Noct to make sure he’d been heard over the blaring music. Noctis nodded in agreement, and stirred his drink around with his straw._

_ “I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to this,” he sympathized, the corner of his mouth lifting into a bitter-sweet smile. Prompto bobbed his head from side-to-side as he strolled over to lean against the wall with his friend._

_ “Sort of. I was just kinda thinking... Nah, never mind,” he smiled, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. Of course, a statement like that was always going to pique Noct’s interest, and he never liked letting Prompto keep secrets to himself; they always seemed to eat him up inside when they did, and often made him sadder than if he’d simply told Noct in the first place._

_ “C’mon, spill. It’s only me,” Noct coaxed, giving him a nudge in the elbow before taking a sip through his straw. Prompto watched Noct’s unrelenting, but gentle stare as he drank up his fruit punch, and with a sigh, he let his guard down._

_ “I just thought it might give me a little insight into your world. I mean, I obviously can’t go to your fancy dinners or formal parties, but I thought this might feel like... like we were both royalty,” Prompto shrugged, meeting Noct’s gaze with a timid smile before lowering his head.  
  
Noct’s heart thrummed hard against his chest at the mere sight of Prompto’s insecurity. There he was again, struggling to find ways to belong. Noct wondered, why wasn’t it enough to simply belong to _him_?_

_ “Prompto? Let’s get out of here.”_

“_Wha—? But, it’s not even over!”_

“_I’ve got something else planned. Please?” Noctis asked, begging Prompto to trust him. Of course, with a confident nod, Prompto followed Noctis out of the gym __to__ wait for their drive._

* * *

“_What are we doing back here? I mean, I know I’m staying the night, but it’s only... eight o’clock?” Prompto asked, as the limousine pulled into the round courtyard of the Citadel. “Thought you’d at least take me somewhere nice to eat,” Prompto jested now, nudging Noctis with his elbow._

“_Just be patient, okay? Geez,” Noct waved him off. They got out of the car and headed inside, and it was then that Noctis finally took Prompto’s hand. Eyes met—Prompto’s curious and Noctis’ smiling—as Noct led him to the left, around a corner, and down the hall. A set of double doors were on the right wall, and Noctis __hauled_ _one__ open, holding __it__ aside while Prompto entered._

“_Noct? Is this… the ballroom?” Prompto asked, spinning slowly around with his gaze on the __elaborately painted__ ceilings.  
  
Noctis adjusted the dimmer on the wall, lowering the lights until they gave off a soft yellow glow. He reached inside his coat for his phone __and__ flicked through it until he found the song he was looking for. __He__ put it away __again __once the song had begun to play over the room’s loudspeakers. With a gentle smile, he followed Prompto into the centre of the room and offered him a hand._

“_My dad said we can use it until our hearts’ content,” Noctis murmured. _  
  
_Prompto looked stunned for a second, before his expression softened into one of disbelief and pure joy. He took Noctis’ hand, and they moved in against each other, Prompto’s hand falling upon Noct’s shoulder, and Noct’s upon Prompto’s waist. Their linked hands remained in the air as they danced, the slow piano piece in the background the perfect soundtrack for Prompto’s first dance with his prince._

_They moved slowly, feet swaying from side to side as they danced in a circle. The more they moved, the closer Prompto inched towards Noctis, until he was able to rest his chin on his shoulder._

“_Your dad is super nice,” he uttered. His voice was low and soft, full of adoration and a small amount of sadness that Noctis knew came from thoughts of his own neglectful parents._

“_He’__s__ super embarrassing,” Noct rolled his eyes. “__Sorry__ he wanted to see us off before we went to the dance.”_

“_Why is that embarrassing? You’re lucky that he fusses over you like that. Really takes an interest in you,” Prompto said, voice higher in pitch now, as he tried to understand Noct’s slight disgust. ‘  
  
_'When he has the time_’ __was the reply Noctis wanted to give,__ but he didn’t. Even if his dad was busy, the small amount of time that they did spend together was still more than what Prompto ever got with his parents._

_ He knew that all the love that Prompto had ever received had come from him: his first hug—his first human contact, really—and his deep, real, unconditional love. Feeling needed was a concept that Prompto had been unable to comprehend at one point in his life; he was always struggling to understand why his parents never took an interest in what he was doing, never hugged him when it was his birthday, nor praised him up when he did well in school. _

_ He’d known love had to exist. He’d seen the parents of his classmates showing affection to their kids when they picked them up from school, or attended parent-teacher events. As he grew up, he’d watched more and more couples grow close, and he continued to struggle, always wondering why he couldn’t find the same for himself. Of course, Noctis had changed all of that._

“_You’re probably right,” Noctis gave in. He smiled as he pulled back, holding his and Prompto’s hands up high and waving to encourage Prompto to spin under them. Prompto laughed as he did so with little grace, then he moved in against Noctis again. _  
  
_It was warm in their suits, and yet, Prompto couldn’t stand being away from the warmth that came from being so close to his best friend. There was nothing like being in Noctis’ arms, being pressed against his chest, or having their hands woven together, for in those actions, he knew he was safe and loved._

“_Noct? Thanks for the amazing night,” Prompto whispered. Noctis leaned in to brush their noses together as they continued to sway in a circle._

“_You’re welcome,” Noct whispered, before Prompto captured his lips._

* * *

Noctis’ blood was boiling as he headed down the hallway, his stomach so unsettled, he had hardly gotten his dinner down. He was hurt and angry, and full of confusion as to why Prompto would go to such lengths to avoid him, but he knew he had to calm down. Staying this worked up would only make him feel worse, and would hamper his judgement about other things, so he headed for the ballroom—his old thinking spot.

Through the large windows, he caught sight of a figure, and realized he wasn’t alone. There sat Prompto, so hunched and solemn. The sight made Noctis’ anger fall away as if it had never been there. Noctis opened the door, and Prompto didn’t even seem to notice the noise. He sat with his head turned slightly away from the king, and even though Noctis could see very little of his face, he could tell he was crying. The skin around his eyes was red and blotchy, and even the dim lights of the room were enough to give away his tear-stained cheeks.

Whatever was going on with Prompto was serious; Noctis knew that now. Prompto’s life had been hard from the very start, with no support from friends or parents. He’d lived alone, struggled with self-confidence and body image. After meeting Noct, he’d had a few near-death experiences, had been captured and tortured by Ardyn. And if all of that wasn’t enough, he’d lost the love of his life to a magical crystal, and was forced to go back to living alone. He had survived all of that without ever showing weakness, rarely ever letting himself cry, which could only mean that something worse must have happened during their time apart to make him feel so vulnerable now.  
  
Maybe he wasn’t ready to jump back into a relationship, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t happy that Noctis was back. Besides, right now, it looked like he was suffering a hell of a lot more than Noct was. Maybe Gladio was right. Maybe he shouldn’t be so hard on him.

“Hey,” Noct greeted softly, startling Prompto, who looked over at him with red, wet eyes. “Looks like we both had the same idea tonight.”

Prompto touched a hand to his face, and when he felt tears, he became rather embarrassed to know his memories had been strong enough to induce such emotion. Prompto wiped at them with his palm as Noct proceeded in from the doorway. He stopped when he reached the window ledge, waiting until Prompto looked up at him again to seek permission.

“Do you mind?” he asked, motioning to the ledge.

“Not at all.” Prompto scooted over to give his friend some room. His response had been instinctive, which made him aware of how much he was yearning for Noct’s company tonight, despite not wanting him to see him like this.

Noctis listened closely to Prompto’s breathing, the way he tried to steady it to suppress sobs. Noctis’ eyes travelled slowly towards him, his gaze so calming and tranquil. There wasn’t an ounce of judgement in his eyes, nothing that said Prompto should be holding back his tears; quite the opposite. Noct was allowing him to cry, without even saying a word about it, never drawing attention to the fact that he was witnessing his friend’s breakdown.

“It’s hard _not _to miss the way things were,” Noct said, not needing to be told where Prompto’s thoughts had been.  
  
This used to be one of Noctis’ favourite places to escape the busy comings and goings of the Citadel. It was normally empty, and granted a good place to think, as well as blow off some steam when all Noct wanted to do was run around and scream. He was sure he’d told Prompto that this was a good, quiet thinking spot. If Prompto was here now, it was probably because he, too, had too much on his mind.

Noctis tugged a handkerchief out of the chest pocket of his suit, and handed it to his friend. Prompto graciously accepted it, and dabbed at his eyes, his chin continuing to tremble.

“What’cha thinkin’ about?” the king asked, softly.

“You remember the night of our prom?” Prompto sniffled out, staring out into the room until he felt Noct turn his head towards him.

“Perfectly,” Noct assured him, eyes meeting for a moment that was fleeting, but meaningful. Prompto nodded and pulled his attention back to the empty dance floor.

“That was one of the best nights of my life,” he went on, managing a weak smile, and Noct felt a tug in his heart at his honesty. “You made me feel so special. And the efforts you and your dad went to to make sure I had an amazing time… I’ll never forget it. You made me feel like royalty that night, like I actually belonged in your world.”

Noctis stared at him now with utmost care. His expression held so much adoration, and yet so much pain as he considered the parts of Prompto’s life that didn’t have him in it. Those parts were the darkest parts, the ones that had made him feel unworthy of Noctis’, or _anyone’s, _love. As happy as it made him to know he had brought light and meaning into Prompto’s life, there was still a sadness that came with that truth.

“You do belong,” Noctis promised him, and he heard Prompto try to disguise a somewhat bitter chuckle.  
  
He saw Prompto reach for his barcode out of the corner of his eye, his fingers rubbing over it almost guiltily, and Noct reached for that hand, pulling it away from his wrist and keeping it safe within his grasp. He knew the contact was a risk, knew that Prompto might very well pull away, but he didn’t. He must have needed the comfort.  
  
Prompto stifled another sob as Noctis stroked his hand with his thumb; he didn’t deserve such kindness after he had been so cold towards Noct, did he?

“Hey, I know you’ve got something you’re afraid to tell me, and if you’re still not ready, that’s fine. I just want to know…” Noct trailed off, and leaned forward a little so he could better meet Prompto’s eyes. Prompto timidly looked his way.

“If I did something to break your trust, please, tell me,” he pleaded. Prompto’s gaze lingered this time, and eventually he shook his head and laughed softly.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Noct. I’ve _always _trusted you,” he said, but Noctis was going through a list of what-ifs. What if he had lost Prompto’s trust when he had gotten engaged to Luna? Or what about when he’d pushed Prompto off of the moving train after trying to kill him?

“Then what?” Noctis gently pried. His brows were so deeply slanted in worry, his stomach twisting as he felt like he might be getting closer to the truth.

“It’s just that this thing that’s going on with me… is not an easy thing to talk about,” Prompto admitted, his voice so very meek. He blinked back a new onslaught of tears, and allowed himself to lean his head on his friend’s shoulder, letting out a shaky breath as he rested there, but it felt good.  
  
He soon felt an arm around his back, holding him close as Noct’s head fell atop his own. The position was so familiar, and so very soothing. Bravely, Noctis pressed a long kiss into Prompto’s hair.

“I wish I could help you,” he whispered, feeling at a loss now.

“I wish you could, too,” Prompto half-chuckled, eyes remaining teary. But Noctis couldn’t help. Even if Prompto told him the truth, there would be nothing he could do for him this time. Prompto’s stomach twisted with that sickening feeling of being trapped. Sadly, this was one of the few things that Noctis couldn’t make better with hugs or kisses.

Noct rubbed his arm gently, hoping to bring him some comfort. Prompto still didn’t pull away, but rather seemed to sink into his touch, into his warmth, and despite how solemn the moment was, there was a part of Noctis that still wished it could last forever. It had been far too long since they had been this close, and Noct wondered if this might be as close as they ever would be again.

Noctis struggled to think of what Prompto could possibly be hiding from him. What was so hard to talk about that he couldn’t tell him? Was it something Noct wouldn’t like? Something that might hurt him, or jeopardize the Crown? He honestly had no idea, but he wished he would never have to leave Prompto’s side until he knew. He didn’t want him struggling with this alone, didn’t want him _suffering_, like he so obviously was.

Noctis’ mind rushed back to that sweet, young teenager who had always been cracking jokes and making him smile even when he didn’t feel like doing so himself. What had the world done to change him so much? When he looked at Prompto now, his heart ached as he longed to know where that precious young man had gone. How he longed to see Prompto smile the way he used to—so wide, and carefree, and unafraid.

Was it Ardyn who had taken Prompto’s smile away? Had he stolen it when he’d held Prompto captive, replacing it with horrid memories that were impossible to forget? Memories that made it too hard to ever show genuine happiness again? How could he smile after he’d been tortured in ways he would never be able to erase from his mind?

Or was this all Noctis’ fault? Had his betrayal on the train been too much for them to recover from? Had his rescue from Zegnautus Keep come too late? Had Prompto been expecting more from him when he’d told him the entire story behind his barcode? Had he let Prompto down when he had been taken by the crystal immediately after? Or when he’d returned years later prepared to disappear again, this time forever?

When Noctis had come back from the crystal, when they had spent their last night together, both had avoided a proper goodbye because they knew it would only hurt more when Noctis gave his life for the world. Maybe that was when the distance had formed.

It seemed there were a number of reasons why Prompto could be angry with him, but Noctis certainly didn’t sense any hostility from him now, not in the way he was leaning into him, head resting on his shoulder. He was where he belonged, Noctis thought, everything feeling so right when they were together like this, even in the saddest times. Perhaps that was when they truly needed and appreciated each other the most.

“Prompto? Will you accompany me to Galahd?” Noctis inquired. Had he known the question would make Prompto lift his head from his shoulder, he might have reconsidered asking it. He missed the contact already.

“Huh? But you asked Fae to go with you,” Prompto reminded him, wiping under his eyes with the back of his hand.

“I know, but I feel like you need a break from this place. Maybe a change of scenery will do you good.”

“I’ve only been back here for, like, a day.”

“Still, it seems like...” Noctis paused to reach a hand to Prompto’s face. Prompto looked hesitant when he let his fingers rest upon his ear, but as his thumb brushed against the wet skin under his eye, Prompto simply let his lids fall closed to soak up the feeling. “You need a good distraction.”

“I don’t know, Noct,” Prompto breathed, as the hand left his face. He felt colder now that the moment had passed, and when he opened his eyes, the warmth in Noctis’ eyes had lessened. “I just have a lot to work through, and I think if I went with you, you and I would start falling back into old habits.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Noctis asked, but when Prompto averted his eyes, the king cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I’m pushing again.”

“No, it’s okay,” Prompto assured him. Though his eyes didn’t move from their spot on the floor, his hand reached over to rest on Noctis’ knee, giving a gentle squeeze that made his heart flutter. This was his Noctis, the Noctis he had known so well, and loved so very much. It hurt to touch him and know that he couldn’t make it anything more than what it was—a mere touch.

“If you change your mind, let me know, okay? I know Cor said that a smaller party is best, but I might even be able to take you and Fae both, if that would make you more comfortable,” Noctis said, giving Prompto’s leg a pat in return before getting up from his perch. He stretched his arms lazily above his head, and Prompto managed a half-smile at the man who resembled that young prince from years ago. As he let his arms fall back down, he turned to look over his shoulder at Prompto.

“Will you be alright now?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks,” Prompto said, maintaining as much of a smile as he could. Noctis took a few steps toward the door, but halted, staring back at his dear companion with gentle concern in his eyes.

“Hey. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will,” Prompto said, folding his hands in his lap as Noctis left the ballroom. He leaned his head back against the window in defeat. He would try, but... that request was much easier said than done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everybody. Hope you're still enjoying the story so far. It's a little bit slow moving at the beginning, but I promise, the boys won't be apart forever, and there are a lot of things that just had to be set up for later. Also wanted to mention, Fae is my original glaive character that I made on FFXV Comrades. I thought it would be cool to incorporate her into the story as someone who was with Prompto during those years without Noctis, since they said in the game that Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto all went their separate ways during that time. Anyway, I posted a few pictures of her on my tumblr/twitter (under my same username), so if you want to get a visual of her, go take a peek! As always, thank you for reading!


	4. Departure

“Move your feet, Noct,” Gladio scolded, arms folded as he watched the king from the sidelines. The air in the training room was warm and stale. They had been in here for far longer than they were used to; the king was out of practice as far as fighting went, and with the voyage coming up soon, he needed to be well prepared to defend himself. Noctis hadn’t fought at all since the final battle with Ardyn. All of his efforts after that had been put into rebuilding roads and buildings in Lucis, as well as reconstructing the parts of the Citadel that had been damaged during Insomnia’s fall.

Noctis knew that this training was important, knew that he had to be on top of his game when he was going out into the world with only one glaive to accompany him, but he couldn’t focus. His mind was on Prompto—poor Prompto who he had found in tears the night before. Noctis had gone to the ballroom for some peace and quiet, to think on his own like he used to do as a child, but instead it had cured some of his loneliness for Prompto, and also allowed him to dry his tears, despite not knowing the cause of them. It killed Noct to not understand what was going on with him, to know he was suffering and have no idea why.

“I said, move your feet!” Gladio repeated, evidently more irritated this time around. Noctis ignored the instruction and warped forward. Ignis heard the whoosh of magic, and sidestepped just in time to dodge him. Noctis tripped as he landed, having fully expected to make impact with his advisor, and he landed on his hands and knees, panting hard, his training blade vanishing into purple sparks on the floor.

“‘The hell is wrong with you today?” Gladio huffed, raising his hands above his head, intending to wave them accusingly, but he restrained himself and rested them behind his head instead. Noctis grunted and pushed himself to his feet, marching over to the bench to grab a towel. He dried his damp face with it before tugging it around his neck and letting it hang there.

“I’m just out of practice, alright? Give me a break.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing bothering you, Noct? It’s not that I lack confidence in my abilities, but I would have thought of the two of us, it would be the blind man who fell to the floor first,” Ignis said, pushing his glasses up, appearing amused. Noctis shook his head wildly at Gladio who was silently daring him to reply to that.

“I said I’m out of practice. I’ll do better tomorrow,” Noctis huffed, and plopped himself down on the bench. He pulled his towel from side to side to dry the back of his neck before dabbing at the line of sweat that ran down the front of his tank top. It had been quite some time since he’d sweat this much during a training session. Maybe he _was _out of practice, but the blame went primarily to the fact that he was distracted.

The buzzer for the training room door gave a harsh honk, and Gladio strolled over to the entryway, pressing a few buttons to deactivate the lock. He pulled the door open, and Noctis caught sight of reddish-pink hair before Gladio disappeared outside.

“Did Gladio leave?” Ignis asked. He had come to stand before Noct now, waiting patiently until the king was ready to either quit for the day or go one more round.

“Yeah. With Fae.”

“Ah, might be beneficial for the two of you to train together before you leave, so she can get used to the feel of your magic again. It’s probably much stronger now that you are nearer to us,” Ignis said. It made sense, Noctis supposed, but he had never thought about how him being stuck in the crystal or tucked away in Angelgard might reduce the strength of his magic for the glaives who borrowed it.

Noctis let out a sigh, and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands lacing together in front of him. Ignis seemed to perk up at the sound of his heavy breath, waiting for any other cues as to what Noctis was doing or thinking.

“Do you know Fae very well?” the king asked.

“Hardly at all. Prompto seems to know her better. Why do you ask?”

Noctis’ lips pressed harder together at the mention of Prompto, and he let his head fall forward, feeling some sense of defeat before even opening his mouth again.

“Prompto said he used to fight alongside her in his hunting days, right? I just wonder… was there something going on between them?” Noctis asked. Ignis paused for a long while, before taking a seat beside his liege and crossing one leg atop the other.

“Trouble in paradise?” he inquired. Noctis scoffed.

“Has hardly been paradise since I got back.” Ignis silently pondered this, too, before continuing.

“To answer your previous question, I never had any reason to believe the two were romantically involved. Prompto certainly never mentioned it.”

“Did he mention _anyone _to you?” Noct asked, looking at Ignis with a sad and desperate expression that the man couldn’t see. The question was a little hard to get out, and if he had been a bit younger, he probably wouldn’t have had the courage to ask it at all, but the roadtrip ten years ago had taught him just how much he could trust and confide in his friends. It was better to let them in than to try and hide from them—especially in Ignis’ case, since the man seemed to know everything Noctis wasn’t saying anyway.

“He did not,” Ignis shook his head.

Noctis remained silent, his laced fingers sliding against each other anxiously. As much as he hoped Prompto’s heart still remained with him, finding the truth would at least stop this painful wondering and worrying.

“Are you disappointed?” Ignis queried.

“Heh, not sure what to think,” Noct admitted, gruffly, and Ignis offered a small smile.

“I understand your struggles, Noct. Prompto has played an extremely important role in your life, but may I just add that perhaps this is not the best time to be pursuing romance? You _are_ trying to rebuild a kingdom, after all.”

“Ugh, now you sound just like him,” Noctis grumbled. “I can rule a kingdom and still love someone at the same time.”

“My apologies. I merely meant that perhaps this is not the best time to become _attached_.” Noctis frowned at the way Ignis had said that last part, not quite understanding what it meant, nor what the odd tone in his voice indicated. He didn’t have time to dwell on it, for the door swung open again, and Gladio poked his head inside.

“Hey, you think we can call it a day? Got some stuff to do, and I don’t want to miss training with His Majesty. He might just fall on his ass next time, and I wouldn’t want to miss the show,” Gladio smirked, and Noctis swatted the air, shooing him off with a wrinkle of his nose that reminded the Shield of the spoiled brat with whom he used to train.

“I wouldn’t count on that show, if I were you,” Noctis taunted.

“We’ll see about that.”

* * *

Prompto jumped when he heard the pounding on his door, and knew by the sound of those familiar giant fists that Gladio was outside, trying to get his attention. That loud knocking had quickly ushered him and Noct out of their hotel rooms plenty of mornings on the road, when Prompto was scrambling to pack up their stuff and Noctis was still half-asleep and buried in blankets.

Prompto uncrossed his legs from where he’d been lying on his bed, and set his phone down on the nightstand beside him. He sighed as he made his way across the room, knowing that whatever Gladio wanted probably wasn’t something he wanted to deal with at the moment. He’d already been caught crying—twice, actually. Was it too much to ask for a little time on his own to recover from everything that had happened?

“Hey,” Gladio greeted, his voice much softer than Prompto would have expected from the urgent knocking.

“Hey,” Prompto greeted back, opening the door for Gladio and strolling over to sit on the edge of the bed. He waved toward the chair at his desk, but Gladio politely declined.

“I’ll stand. Thanks.” He looked like he was about to start speaking after that as he rubbed the back of his head, but he returned to the door and closed it over first.

“Look, kid. Everyone’s worried about you,” Gladio started, his hands splaying out in front of him in a manner-of-fact manner. Prompto’s mouth twitched into an amused smile that didn’t last.

“I don’t know why. I’m fine,” he fibbed.

“Really? Is that why a certain young glaive asked me to talk some sense into you? I have to agree with her. I think you should go on the trip with Noct.” Prompto’s eyes shot up toward his friend, fear sparkling in them amongst the shades of violet. So, Fae had gotten Gladio involved. Did the distance between him and Noct feel as wrong to everyone else as it did to him?

“No, no way. I mean, I appreciate that you’re all trying to help me out, but I’m fine,” Prompto sang, getting up and heading for the wooden cabinet across the room. Gladio watched as he reached for a bottle and a couple of glasses.

“Right. You’re fine. That’s why you’re gonna drink in the middle of the afternoon, after you were too depressed to even finish your drink when we went out the other night?” Gladio dryly asked. Prompto frowned at the comment, and halted his hands halfway, setting the drink and glasses back in the cabinet before swinging the doors shut. He sauntered back over to the bed and flopped down on the edge again. Out of habit, he reached for his tattooed wrist and rubbed it shamefully.

“I can’t do this, Gladio,” he whispered, gaze fixed on the floor.

“Yes, you can. You need to tell Noct what’s going on. That’s the only way either of you is going to feel better. And this trip might give you a good opportunity to talk it all out.”

“How do you know it’s going to make us feel better? Even if it takes a load off _my_ mind, there’s no way Noct’s not going to be hurting after this.” Prompto knew that for a fact. Noctis was dying to get back together as it was. If he knew how dire the circumstances were, he would be heartbroken, devastated, and so desperate to fight the inevitable that might cling to Prompto and never let go. Oddly enough, that last thought was sort of a comforting one.

“Keeping secrets is never easy. It’s much better to share than to carry the burden alone. You of all people should know that,” Gladio said, stepping forward. He pointed to the barcode that Prompto was still relentlessly rubbing, and Prompto blinked in surprise before dropping his hands to his sides, fingers curling around the edge of the mattress.

He’d often wondered how different things would have been if he had told the truth from the beginning. If Ignis had known about his codeprint, he probably would have helped research it, and Prompto wouldn’t have had to find out the darkest truths about it in the very lab in which he’d been created. He would have had the support of his friends, of Noctis, and he might not have had to live in so much fear—fear of being shunned for his origins, fear of being torn from Noctis by King Regis or others who protected the Crown, fear of being sent back to Niflheim.

“You’re… you’re right about that one,” Prompto sighed, and Gladio knelt before him. He stretched out a hand and rested it on the younger man’s shoulder, his golden eyes hoping to meet Prompto’s cautious ones; eventually, they did.

“Look, I know this ain’t easy. On any of us. But you shouldn’t have to suffer alone. If Noct knew you needed him and he wasn’t there for you, he’d live every last day filled with regret. You get that, don’t you?” Gladio asked, his eyes so sad and gentle, a sort of desperation in his eyes as he tried to get his point across. Prompto nodded meekly, that statement hitting home.

It was still hard to grasp how someone like Noctis could love him so very much, but regardless of the reasons, Noctis did, and Prompto knew he had to be fair to him. When people loved like they did, they were supposed to stick it out together through the good _and _the bad. And they’d had so, so much good. He wanted to believe they could handle that sprinkling of bad, too.

”I do. Thanks, Gladio,” he breathed, and the older man gave his shoulder an appreciative squeeze before getting to his feet.

“Go tell Noct you’ll go with him. I want to see you spending lots of time in the training room this week. You guys will be leaving in a few days, and I want you both at the top of your game. Who knows what kind of trouble you’ll run into.”

“Yes, sir.” Gladio headed for the door, giving Prompto one last glance, making sure he didn’t look like his resolve had wavered in the last few seconds. Once he felt confident enough that the young man wasn’t going to change his mind, he disappeared down the hall.

* * *

It wasn’t until the next day that Prompto mustered the courage to finalize his decision. With shaking fingers, he’d texted Noct to see where he was, which was met with a response within seconds.

‘_In the training room. You coming, too?’_

It was an eager invitation that Prompto couldn’t say no to, even if he _had_ changed his mind about accompanying him on the trip. But he _hadn’t; _he was committed.

In fact, upon reflection, he’d found he was thankful for the night Noctis had found him in the ballroom. It had been the first time since his return that Prompto had felt comforted by Noctis instead of ridden with guilt. It made it a lot easier to approach him now, knowing that Noctis was on his side, and that all he really wanted to do was help.

When he opened the training room door, he was caught off guard by the sight of Noctis in a sweat. He warpstriked from one end of the room to the other while his phone timer dinged once every second; he tried to keep up with it, and managed to do so surprisingly well, despite the difficulty of the task. Noctis stopped when he saw Prompto enter, and he gave him a smile before heading for the bench and turning off the timer. He reached for a towel and patted his face with it before tossing it aside.

“You made it,” he greeted, heading for his friend. “I’ll just apologize now for the smell,” he smirked, picking up the front of his damp shirt between two fingers, and eyeing it with disdain.

Prompto regarded his friend, whose face looked so much like the late King Regis’—so regal and charming—and yet, from the neck down, he was the young prince who never cleaned his shambolic apartment. The contrast made Prompto burst out laughing.

“No apology necessary. I, uh… I just came to talk to you about the trip.”

“The trip?” Noct’s eyes lit up, his expression cautious, but hopeful. “You thinking about going?”

“Well, yeah. If you’ll still have me, I’d like to go with you,” Prompto said, hesitantly at first, but by the end of his statement, he was smiling softly. Noctis watched him for a moment, drinking in every facial feature for clues as to what Prompto was really feeling on the inside. Why the sudden change of mind? Noctis decided not to dwell on that question, and simply revel in the fact that he had.

“Of course, I’ll still have you. In fact, I… I already asked Cor about having a party of three. He said he guessed it was okay, as long as we’re careful not to draw too much attention.”

“Right,” Prompto nodded, slightly stunned that Noctis had been eager enough to inquire about the specifics already, even when the possibility of Prompto going had been a very slim one. It was just another reminder of how nice it was to feel wanted.

“So, you sticking around for a bit? We could train together, if you want,” Noctis suggested, heading for the weapons room, and waving for Prompto to follow. Prompto leaned against the doorframe, and watched as Noct looked over the weapons with his hands on his hips. He selected a neat little handgun from one of the shelves and tossed it to Prompto.

“Huh. There’d be no way out of this, even if I said no, right?” Prompto playfully grinned, thumbs grazing the firearm in his hand. Noctis merely raised his eyebrows and smirked as he headed back into the main training room. He was pleased to hear Prompto at his heels, and once they were in the centre of the room, he turned to face him.

“Don’t hold back,” Noct warned him, a competitive gleam appearing in his eye. Prompto had missed that look—that look he got when they used to play King’s Knight or spend the day at the arcade.

“You better hope that this thing is only loaded with foam bullets, then,” Prompto chuckled.

“It is. I already checked,” Noct grinned, before warpstriking across the room, just as he had earlier. The space between them worked to Prompto’s advantage, as it gave him a good shooting distance. With two hands on the gun, he launched a few bullets at Noctis. Noct had clearly taken advantage of his Black Hood accessory, as he dodged and ducked under the bullets with ease.

“No fair,” Prompto groaned, and Noctis chuckled, huskily, knowing he’d been caught optimizing his equipment before battle without giving Prompto a chance to do the same.

Noctis launched himself at Prompto this time, his sword landing right in front of Prompto’s feet before he catapulted after it. Prompto took a step back as Noctis yanked the blade out of the ground. Prompto thrust his hands out in front of him, summoning a semi-circle of protective magic. Noctis’ blade collided with the shield, and he bounced backward, watching the pink and purple hexagons shimmering in front of him before dying out.

“A glaive’s magic,” Noctis stated, as it occurred to him. Prompto wasn’t a mere Crownsguard anymore. He was a hunter and a glaive, probably with more new tricks than Noctis could imagine.

Prompto began to shoot again as the shield dissolved, and Noctis warped across the room to avoid the bullets. He turned back to face Prompto, only to see Prompto’s gun in the air right before him, and Prompto launching himself after it in a blue blur. They collided hard, and fell to the ground. Noctis stared up at Prompto who lay atop him, both breathing hard, and getting immediately lost in each other’s eyes. Neither moved. Perhaps neither wanted to. It wasn’t until Noctis bravely reached up to brush Prompto’s bangs out of his eyes that Prompto flinched, and backed off. He scrambled to his feet, and offered the king a hand, pulling him up as well.

Noctis rubbed his wrist, which had taken a good brunt of the fall, and nervously brought his eyes to Prompto.

“So, you can warpstrike, too.”

“Yeah. Guess I shoulda’ warned you,” Prompto shrugged, looking sheepish.

“It’s alright. I cheated, too,” Noct smiled. “If, uh, if you don’t mind my asking, how did you learn?” Noctis’ head was tilted slightly in curiosity, and Prompto found himself biting his lip. It hadn’t been so much a learned ability as it was a happy accident.

“Not long after I started fighting alongside the hunters, we were in this battle with a bunch of big magitek armours. They were shooting at us, and were blocking so many of our escape routes that we couldn’t even retreat. I was hurt, and I honestly thought I was a goner.” Prompto paused when he saw the intense look of worry on Noctis’ face as he listened. He felt his heart swell, but swallowed his emotions, and pressed on.

“I got knocked down, my gun went flying out of my hand. I was terrified, but when I stretched my hand out to reach for it, I felt myself being warped right to it. I’m pretty sure I just lay there on the ground for a while in disbelief, and then…” he trailed off.

He remembered looking to the sky, and fondly whispering Noctis’ name, thanking him for lending him his magics. The magics were normally a comfort anyway, as they were confirmation that Noctis wasn’t dead—merely sleeping. But to have those warping abilities, those same powers that had once helped Noct take down so many enemies… it was invigorating.

“Then?” Noct gently coaxed, and Prompto smiled, snapping back to reality.

“I was able to warp up to one of the rooftops, and I recovered enough that I could help fight the rest of the battle.”

“Wow,” Noctis murmured. “I’m glad you were able to do that.”

“Me, too,” Prompto chuckled. Silence followed their conversation, and after a few awkward seconds passed of them searching for something to say, Noctis wandered over to the bench and pressed the button on his phone to light it up. He gaped when he saw the time.

“Oh, didn’t realize it was this late. I have to go get cleaned up now, but we should do this again before we leave for Galahd, okay?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Prompto agreed with a smile. He headed for the weapons room and set the gun back on its shelf. He felt Noctis watching him before he even turned back around.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re coming with me,” Noctis said, and Prompto felt himself relax at the sight of his smiling mouth and gentle eyes.

He looked so happy, not that most people could tell with how mildly Noct showed his emotions, but Prompto could see it. He was genuinely excited. Prompto wished he could say the same. He wanted to be, but he honestly wasn’t sure how he felt about this trip yet. His nerves weren’t letting him feel much besides fear.

“Yeah, I think… it will be good for us,” Prompto smiled anyway, as he headed for the training room again. Noctis raised a hand as he passed by, and Prompto high-fived him, their hands remaining clasped together a few seconds longer than necessary, before Prompto continued on his way. He left the room before he could hear Noctis whisper,

“I hope so.”

* * *

The week came and went quickly, and Prompto was a bundle of nerves as he headed for Fae’s room to collect her. It had been a good week—lots of training with Noctis, and lots of pep talks from Gladio to convince him he was doing the right thing—but still, it had gone too fast. Prompto wasn’t ready for this. He was even less ready for what greeted him when he arrived at Fae’s dormitory.

“Fae says she’s deathly ill,” Elea said, as she stood in the doorway, holding the door open just wide enough for her to block the entrance. Still, Prompto stood on his tip-toes to try and peer around her.

“What?! N-no, she’s not! Let me see her!” he nervously squeaked. Elea was startled as Prompto bolted forward, easily nudging her out of the way and making his way through the rows of bunks until he came to his friend’s. Fae lay on her back with a hand draped over her forehead, her hair stuffed into a messy bun on top of her head, and the blankets pulled up to her shoulders.

“What’s going on? Why aren’t you ready?” Prompto blurted out in a panic.

“I’m not going. I’m sick,” Fae stated. Prompto scanned the area, where tissues littered her bed and the surrounding floor, though from the look of them, they’d merely been balled up and scattered there in a hurry, never even used.

“You’re not sick! This is a setup!”

“I already told King Noctis I’m not going. Calm down. You’re going to be fine,” Fae said, mustering the most hoarse voice she could, but the smirk that played on the corners of her lips confirmed Prompto’s suspicions about her.

“Don’t do this to me! Come on, get dressed,” he huffed.

“This is a _girls’_ dormitory. Technically, you can’t be in here,” Fae said, pushing herself to sit up, though she still appeared amused.

“Don’t much care at the moment,” Prompto sang back, even though he was starting to notice small groups of girls watching them and whispering.

He searched his surroundings for a bag or suitcase, but it looked like Fae hadn’t packed anything at all. Feeling at a loss, he reached for the backs of her shoulders, urging her to dig her clothes out of the drawer under the bed. Fae fought back laughter as Prompto began gathering up tissues from the floor in a frenzy. The sooner they cleaned up this mess and got her packed, the sooner they could go. Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t in the cards.

Fae sighed and caught Prompto by the arm, making him stop his relentless actions.

“Prompto.” The stern tone made him halt and listen. Carefully, she moved her hands to grip his shoulders. “I know Gladio told you that King Noctis would have regrets if you kept him in the dark about everything, but think about it. You would have regrets, too.”

Prompto stood there staring down at her, her green eyes holding so much wisdom for such a young soul. She was right. Prompto wished he’d had the same level head on his shoulders when he’d been her age. Heck, he still wasn’t sure if he did.

“Every day you keep this a secret, you hurt both of you. Please, just do this. If not for anyone else, then for yourself.”

“But... fighting alongside the king is a big deal. This could be a great opportunity for you. It’s a chance to prove yourself to Noctis.”

“Honestly, with how down you’ve been lately, that is the farthest thing from my mind,” the girl said, with a stern mouth and even more serious eyes.

They stared at each other for a minute, before Prompto pulled her into a hug. She tensed like a cat in water, but she quickly settled into the embrace, reminding herself that this was the one adult in her life that she could trust, and if she didn’t let Prompto know that, then… Well, she would have regrets, too.

“Take care of yourself,” Prompto said.

“You’ll be in more danger than me, remember?” She rolled her eyes, and Prompto chuckled softly, knowing that was her way of telling him to stay safe, too.

“I’ll see you when I get back.”

They quickly said their goodbyes, and Prompto headed for the lobby, where Noctis was waiting for him with a duffel bag in hand. He was dressed more casually than Prompto had seen in a long time, and it made him smile as he remembered the old days. He was dressed in a dark grey t-shirt and a pair of black jeans that hugged his form. It was a nice contrast to Prompto’s white tank and light blue jeans. He wondered if they looked good together, like they used to.

“You all set?” Noctis asked, with a smile that looked like he was fighting from becoming too wide. So, he was still excited about this. Prompto swallowed his fear, and decided that he should be excited, too. It had been a while since he and Noct had been adventuring on the road together.

“All set,” Prompto agreed, and Noctis reached over to take his bag.

“I’ll get this for you,” he offered, grabbing it from Prompto’s hands before he could even protest. Prompto stuttered out a response, then hurried toward the heavy Citadel doors, pushing one open with his back and holding it there so Noctis could go through.

“When did _you_ turn into such a gentleman?” Prompto teased, and Noctis kicked him lightly in the ankle as he passed by, making them both laugh. It was hard for Prompto to believe that the man ahead of him was a king now, but it was nice to be this close again, for everything to feel like they had never been apart. He hoped this feeling would last.

They headed down the steps together, to where a shiny, black car was parked in the courtyard. It wasn’t as big, as expensive, nor as luxurious as the Regalia had been, but Noctis had tried to be wise with his money, and had put it towards what his people needed the most—like food, and houses, and employment.

Noctis loaded their bags into the truck, and climbed into the driver’s seat. Once they were both inside the car, he glanced at Prompto, who was already fixing his bangs in the rear view mirror. He grinned nervously as he caught Noctis staring with admiration, and the king smiled as their gazes met and lingered.

“You ready for this?” he asked. Remembering something Noctis used to say, Prompto cheerfully opened his mouth to reply.

“Born ready.”

* * *

Prompto had expected a long car ride with Noctis to be horribly awkward, but instead, they quickly fell into their old ways, telling jokes and stories of the old days, and catching up on what had happened in each other’s lives over the past several months apart. Any gaps in conversation were filled by familiar Lucian tunes on the radio, ones they used to listen to in their school days.

It was weird to be on the road with so many of their old pit stops being a pile of rubble or a barely recognizable version of what they had been; it was even weirder for Noctis than it was for Prompto, as Prompto had been to most of these places either during his hunting days or during his previous mission of peace.

It made Noctis sad to see how much the world had changed, but he was relieved that Prompto was with him; it made it easier to know that Prompto had been through the worst of the damage and lived through it, and that things were now back on the upswing.

Prompto often glanced at Noctis as they drove, catching sight of his smile and listening to the sound of his laughter. It was nice to see him like this, so joyful and full of life—life that had almost been taken from him eight months ago. It didn’t matter where they stood with each other now, Prompto would always be glad that Noctis had survived, and had been given this second chance.

The drive to Galahd wasn’t overly long, since it was only a bit northeast of Insomnia. Prompto had filled Noctis in on the way there about how the man who was in charge—Libertus Ostium—had had to surrender the battered Galahd to the daemons during the World of Ruin, but had hoped to restore power to it someday. He told Noctis about how he and so many other glaives and hunters had spent their time fighting daemons and collecting meteorshards to send power to other places from Lestallum. In the end, they’d been able to bring back the light to Galahd for a brief period before Noctis had permanently brought back the light.

“Just park up here,” Prompto pointed, as they came to a fork in the road. Noctis obeyed, steering them off of the main road and onto a bumpy dirt path. They drove up a long stretch, and Prompto instructed him to leave the car a distance from the actual town.

“Why?” Noctis asked, even though he’d already parked and taken the keys out of the ignition, listening without question to Prompto’s request.

“Until we know whether or not we should keep your identity a secret from the people here, I think we should keep your presence on the down-low. It’s probably become a well-known fact that you travel in a fancy black car, and I don’t want anyone to target you. I have to keep you safe, Your Majesty,” Prompto said, placing a hand over his chest, and bowing his head, and Noctis wasn’t sure if he was playing or not. He decided to keep the mood light, and did his best to let Prompto know that.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to stop you from doing your job,” he teased, nudging his friend in the shoulder. Prompto chuckled lightly, and they both got out of the car.

They headed down the dirt road side-by-side, and within five minutes, they reached civilization. Prompto could feel the shift in Noctis’ mood as they approached. Never in his life had he seen poverty like this.

Tents were set up everywhere, some which appeared to be little shops, and others that seemed to house families—or whatever was left of them. The small buildings that still remained between piles of debris were badly damaged, some with giant claw marks in them, some with partially collapsed rooves or broken windows. Noctis surveyed the land around them, noticing tiny patches of grass here and there that tried to poke out of the dirt. It seemed the land had been burned at one time, and this was the result of the earth trying to restore itself to its former state.

“I didn’t realize things were this bad,” Noctis said, under his breath, and Prompto gave him a side-long glance, one that was full of sympathy.

“I know. I thought it might come as a shock.”

They continued forward, earning stares from the locals that were anything but welcoming, making Noctis feel like an intruder. He was thankful when Prompto gave a wave to a heavier man a few feet away, his long hair snugged back in braids against his scalp.

“Hey, Libertus!” Prompto called out, and they headed for the open canopy that the man was standing under.

Noctis stuck close to Prompto, the frowns and scowls from those around him making him uncomfortable. Did people recognize him? Was that why he was getting these dirty looks? Because his father hadn’t been able to save Galahd from imperial invasion in the past, and he himself hadn’t yet done enough to help them restore what was lost?

“Hey, it’s been a while,” Libertus greeted, leaving the pot he was stirring to shake Prompto’s hand. Prompto hadn’t been here since the beginning of his trip with the other glaives, which had been not long after Noctis had brought back the light. He wondered if Libertus remembered his name, as he stared at him with what looked like slight discomfort.

“Sorry, you’re…”

“Prompto.”

“Of course. I recognized you right away, but the name slipped my mind,” Libertus chuckled, before returning his hand to the wooden spoon in the big, metal pot. He stirred slowly, the smell of curry wafting up into the air, and making the men a little hungry. Libertus’ gaze travelled from the food back to Prompto, and then to Noctis, where his gaze lingered. Noctis felt his stomach clench.

“And this is…?”

“Oh, this is my partn— I-I mean, my prin—“ Prompto stuttered, the word spilling out out of habit, and he suddenly didn’t know how to correct it. No other words would come to him.

“He’s my glaive. I’m… Noctis?” Noctis announced, raising his brows nervously, like he hoped Libertus would catch on to his identity. Libertus’ eyes widened, and he quickly shook the man’s outstretched hand.

“It’s a pleasure, Your Majesty, but you shouldn’t be here,” Libertus said, lowering his voice so that even Noctis and Prompto could barely hear him.

“And why not?” Noctis tested. Libertus glanced around to see who was listening, then he set one of the dials on the tiny stove to simmer, and put the lid on the pot.

“Come with me. We should speak more privately.” Libertus waved for the men to follow him, and they crossed the street to a small, square, wooden building that looked to be mostly intact. He opened the door and allowed the men to enter before he followed them inside, closing the door behind him.

The room was pretty dark, with only one small, square window letting light in. In the centre of the room was a round, wooden table and four chairs around it. Noctis wondered if this was where some people chose to dine on a rainy day. It wasn’t much, but it did provide a bit more shelter than some of the more rugged-looking buildings or tents.

“Why did you come here?” Libertus asked, addressing Prompto this time, as they all took a seat around the table. Noctis flinched at the abruptness of the question, and felt yet again far from welcome. He wondered if he perhaps should have taken those threats against him more seriously at their last council meeting.

“We came to try and strengthen the bonds of peace with Galahd. I know we ended on good terms when I was here with my two fellow glaives, but we’ve since received threats against our king, and we’re worried for his safety,” Prompto explained. He dug out his phone, and flipped through to the picture Ignis had insisted he take of the threat letter. He slid the phone across the table to Libertus, who scanned it with a frown.

“You can’t blame all of Galahd for one threat,” Libertus asserted, and Prompto shook his head.

“I know, and we’re not. We’re just concerned. Could you maybe talk to the people? Tell everyone that Noctis is not a threat?” Prompto asked, with hopeful eyes and a worried glance at Noct. Libertus bit his bottom lip, pensively.

“Look, kid, I appreciate that you fought so hard with those hunters in Lestallum, and helped restore the light here. And I’m glad you were able to leave us on good terms after your previous visit, but the truth is, Lucis still hasn’t earned Galahd’s trust. You promised us provisions, which we never received.”

“I—“ Prompto started, but Noctis cut in.

“That was my fault, and I am deeply sorry. Prompto called me while he was here and asked me to send a delivery truck with fresh food and water, as well as some building materials. The building supplies took longer than expected to be delivered to the Citadel, and when they did arrive, our driver was ill. By the time he recovered, I’m afraid it had slipped my mind. I promise you, it will never happen again. I am not a man of excuses, nor empty promises. That’s not what my father was, and nor will it be what I become,” Noctis assured the man before him, and Prompto smiled softly at his speech, at how strong he looked in that moment. His jaw was firmly set, his beard a reflection of his father, but his eyes were sincere, and so purely Noct—the Noct that had grown up alongside Prompto and helped him through so much.

“I will call my advisor immediately and request the truck leave within the day with provisions,” Noctis announced, taking his phone out of his pocket so he absolutely would not forget.

“Thank you, your Highness. We really could use the help, but trust takes a lot of time and effort. You’re not going to win the people over with a few gifts,” Libertus said with a wave of his hand. Noctis knew it was harsh, but it was also the truth.

“I realize this, but I’m afraid at this time, I am in a tough position. I have a fair number of able-bodied glaives now that I would gladly send to your aid to help you with some of the manual labour to rebuild this town, but my council doesn’t think it wise to send any glaives away from the Citadel when my security is at risk,” Noctis explained. “I sincerely wish there was more I could do at this time, but I’m afraid provisions are all I can deliver right now. Is there anything Prompto and I could do for you in the immediate future to help out? We had planned to stay for a couple of days,” Noctis explained. Libertus put a hand to his chin as he pondered.

“My best advice to you would be to mingle with the people, and help out with whatever little jobs need to be done, but I wouldn’t alert them of your royal status yet, if I were you. Tell them you’re_ both_ glaives. Gain their trust first, and maybe once these threats against you come to an end, we can tell them the truth.”

“You believe the threats will eventually end?” Noctis asked.

“If you continue to help us in whatever ways you can, then yeah. I at least hope so,” Libertus said, giving the men a smile for the first time since they’d gotten here. It put them both at a bit more ease.

“I guess it’s a good thing Prompto already made some connections here. It should make things easier to earn their trust,” Noctis said, turning to Prompto briefly with a proud smile, and Prompto lowered his head, flushing.

“Well, actually, since you say that…” Libertus trailed off, looking guilty. He gave a sigh before continuing, his fingers playing nervously with the edge of the table.

“Someone here did some investigating after you left last time, Prompto. He remembered something from an old newspaper years ago that reminded him of you. He managed to get his hands on a copy, and the picture confirmed it was you. You were rumoured to be the prince’s sweetheart,” Libertus said. Prompto turned a deeper shade of red, and slunk down a little in his seat. Noctis spoke up to avert Libertus’ attention from him.

“And? Why does that matter?” Noctis folded his arms.

“He decided he couldn’t trust Prompto because of his association with you. He circulated that idea pretty well with the people around here, too,” Libertus explained.

“But Prompto helped out here for weeks. And, even if the rumours were true, shouldn’t it be a sign of my will to help if I sent someone so personally close to me?” Noctis asked. Libertus shrugged.

“I wish I could help, your Highness, but like I said, trust is a hard thing to earn, especially when it’s been so brutally broken.”

All were silent for what felt like a long time, and Prompto struggled to figure out how things had so drastically gone downhill since the last time he’d been here. Was Fae right? Had everything they done here been for nothing? _Wait... Fae._

“You remember that young glaive that was with me last time? Fae?” Prompto asked, and he saw Noctis perk up beside him, looking curious. “She told me you saved her long ago. She said she had been attacked, and you rescued her and got her safely into the back of a truck with you and some other glaives.”

“Yeah, I did. She was a skinny little thing back then. Looked like she was going to keel over, but she turned into a fierce little fighter,” Libertus said, fondly.

“You know she went through hell, too. She lost everything thanks to the imperials, but she still believed in King Regis, and she trusts Noct, too. She’s actually hoping for a life of service to protect Lucis and the king,” Prompto said, with a hand over his heart, hoping that the story would help. “If she trusts him, and she went through the same sorts of tragedy that Galahd has, then surely the people of Galahd can have some faith in him, too,” Prompto said. “Please, can you pass that along to the people here?”

Libertus gave a sigh. He wasn’t cut out to be an authority figure. This position as town leader had come about simply because he had been a glaive once, and he knew a lot about war and survival. He, too, had once lost his faith in Lucis, after Crowe had died, the woman he’d loved like a sister. But his buddy, Nyx, had believed in a better world. He had given his life so that the Lady Lunafreya might pass the Ring of the Lucii unto the young prince Noctis. If Nyx had believed his sacrifice was worth it, then Libertus felt obligated to believe the same. His best friend had died for the man in front of him now, and he couldn’t disrespect that choice.

“I’ll admit, I certainly haven’t been provoking these threats against you, Your Majesty, but I haven’t been doing my part to stop them either. I assure you now, I will do what I can,” Libertus promised, bowing his head.

He got up from his seat and pushed the chair in, giving the men a smile. “Feel free to stop by my tent across the way. Lunch is almost ready.” He dismissed himself with a brief nod and closed the door behind him, leaving the two in silence. It took a minute before either of them decided to talk. There were many things Prompto expected Noctis to say, but this wouldn’t have been his first guess.

“Fae wants to keep serving as a glaive, huh?”

“Yeah. Her dad was a glaive. Her mom passed away before she could remember. She and her dad lived in the Citadel until he was killed in battle. She was only young when it happened, but apparently, King Regis allowed her to stay at the Citadel.”

“Oh, really?”

“What, you never ran into her over the years?”

“Don’t think so. ‘Course, I was probably too wrapped up in myself to notice,” Noct said, a little regretfully.

“Well, she swears your dad’s the only reason she survived. He gave her a home, kept her clothed and fed, paid her as a glaive even when she was technically too young to do the job. I know she’d never come right out and ask, but she’d love it if you let her stay at the Citadel permanently as a glaive.”

“I don’t see why not. She’s performed admirably so far. Would have liked to see her in action during this trip, but if she’s sick, she’s sick. Can’t blame her for that.”

“Uh, y-yeah,” Prompto stuttered, inwardly cursing her for her little trick.

“Besides, it’s not like I’ve had glaives lining up at the door to serve. I can’t exactly afford to lose any,” Noctis shrugged.

“Thanks, Noct. I know she’ll appreciate it,” Prompto smiled, getting up from the table, and breathing a sigh of relief. “I appreciate it, too. She needs a home so badly, and I really wanted her to find one before I—” He halted abruptly, and Noctis looked up, eyes appearing startled and cautious.

“Before you what?”

Prompto bit his lip.

“I, um,” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his head. “I honestly don’t remember what I was going to say there. Hehe,” he chuckled. Noctis drew his gaze back to the table, and Prompto frowned when Noctis didn’t move from his spot.

“Prompto? What is she to you?” Noctis asked slowly, keeping his gaze on the table. Prompto scrunched up his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what relation do you have to her? Were you and she ever…?” He trailed off, not wanting to say the words if he didn’t have to. Thankfully, Prompto caught on, and he shook his head in amusement.

“No, no way, dude! It wasn’t anything like that. She’s, like, twelve years younger than me, and if anything, I… I mean, I know it’s a little strange, but I almost think of her like a daughter? I don’t know,” Prompto said, tentatively, like he didn’t quite know how to describe it himself.

Noctis swallowed hard, suddenly seeing his friend in a new light. It was strange to wake up and realize the world had continued on without him, that his friends had continued their lives, had grown up, had had new experiences. Before he’d ended up in the crystal, Prompto had been so young. He couldn’t believe that he’d grown up enough to see himself in a parenting role. Noctis was almost a little jealous. He felt like he was struggling with being adult enough to even do all the paperwork that needed to be done back home, let alone take care of another human being.

“I see,” Noctis said, pausing to let the information sink in. It may have been a little hard to understand, but at least it was better than the scenarios that had been swirling around in his head before. Prompto offered him a hand, and helped him up from his seat with a smile.

“You ready to eat, buddy? I’m starving, and that curry smelled delicious.”

“Yeah. Let’s go,” Noctis agreed, savouring the feeling of his hand in Prompto’s long after the contact had ended.

* * *

Prompto had a hard time sleeping that night. He thought he should be tired from the events of the day, from the drive to Galahd, and helping the townspeople chop lumber for firewood. He was wide awake, however, as he lay beside Noctis in the shack in which Libertus had met with them earlier that day. He had loaned them a couple of spare blankets, and they set them up on the floor—one underneath them for padding, and one on top of them for warmth.

Prompto felt a little awkward since this was as close to sharing a bed as they’d come in a while, but even that wasn’t what was keeping him awake. The image of the threat letter was burned in his mind, and he regretted showing it to Libertus now, as it had only reawakened his fears that Noctis was in danger. _Sleep with one eye open, King Noctis. Galahd hasn’t forgiven you yet._

The words made Prompto feel unsettled. The culprit behind that threat could easily be here among them. He and Noct could have helped this villain earlier in the day and not even known it.

Prompto lay on his back, restlessly, and turned his head towards his king, who was peacefully sleeping. One of their lamps—which they used to pin to their jackets—sat on the floor while they rested. Prompto was thankful for it, as it would have been pitch dark without it. In the light blue glow, Prompto could see that Noctis’ lips were slightly parted, each of his breaths coming out slowly and heavily. His eyelids twitched ever so slightly as he dreamed, and Prompto had the urge to kiss them ever so gently, but he resisted.

He’d sworn to himself he would stick to his guns. If he let himself get attached now, it would only hurt Noctis more in the long run, and that was the last thing he wanted. Sure, he could tell him the truth eventually, but that didn’t mean they had to spark up their old flame.

It would have been far too easy to give in to old habits, though. He was highly aware of how badly he wanted to just snuggle in against Noctis, to wake up with Noctis’ arms around him. When Noct had been gone, that was all Prompto had wanted. Now… this was reality, and there would be consequences if he did get involved, unlike when he merely dreamed of being with him. He was here on a mission to protect Noctis, and that was what he’d do.

He stuck a hand out in front of his face, and summoned his gun in a flash of blue and purple, wanting to make sure the magics binding him to Noctis were still at the ready. This wasn’t like at Zegnautus Keep when their powers had been taken away from them, but ever since they’d had that experience, it had remained a constant fear in the back of his mind. He was probably just being paranoid, from all those times he’d feared Noctis would pass away in the crystal, and his magics would just... die with him.

To his dismay, Noctis stirred beside him, his face scrunching up at the extra light in the room that the magic had created. Prompto quickly let his gun dissipate again, but Noctis still caught the vanishing flash of purple and blue as he opened his eyes.

“Everything okay?” he slurred.

“Yeah. Sorry I woke you,” Prompto said, softly. “Go back to sleep.”

“Something on your mind?” Noctis asked, after he’d blinked a few times to prevent falling immediately unconscious again. Their eyes met, the blue glow of the lamplight making both pairs of eyes look radiant.

“Just a little worried about the threat, but it’s fine, really,” Prompto promised. Noctis pushed himself to sit up, and he rubbed his eyes, trying to rid himself of the fatigue that threatened to take him again.

“Noct, really, it’s okay. You sleep,” Prompto insisted, sitting up beside him.

“It’s no good if you’re exhausted tomorrow. Let’s just take shifts,” Noctis suggested, though he barely looked in any shape to do so.

There was no more time to debate, as there was an eerie scratching coming from outside. Both looked to each other with surprise and unease, and listened hard. It happened again, the scraping of what sounded like claws on the wooden door. Prompto raced to his feet, summoning his gun again, and Noctis clambered off the floor as well. Prompto stood beside the doorframe, flat against the wall and his weapon at the ready. He gave Noctis a nod as the man reached for the door handle. Quickly, he yanked it open, and Prompto pointed his gun at the intruder, expecting to be launched at by a coeurl or voretooth. Instead, a little dog with dark grey fur stared up at him with smiling eyes.

“Umbra!” Prompto beamed, letting out a sigh of relief as he let his gun disappear. Noctis scooted around from behind the back of the door to see the creature for himself.

“Really?! What are you doing here, boy?” he grinned, kneeling immediately as the dog rushed towards him. Noctis looked like a kid again in that moment, rubbing and patting Umbra behind the ears and around his neck. Prompto smiled softly as he admired the sight.

“You got a message for us, Umbra? Or are you just here for moral support this time?” Prompto chuckled.

”I wonder,” Noctis mused. “You followed us all the way from the Citadel, huh? For added protection, maybe?”

”Who knows,” Prompto shrugged. “But I know I feel better with a guard dog around.”

“Me, too,” Noctis agreed, standing up and allowing the dog to enter. He closed the door to the shack again, sliding the heavy metal lock over before settling back down under the blanket on the floor with Prompto. Umbra curled up at the boys’ feet, laying his head on top of their ankles. Prompto hummed contentedly.

“Feel better?” Noctis asked, with a glance in his friend’s direction.

“Yeah, a lot, actually. Umbra will let us know if there’s any danger.” Noctis smiled softly at Prompto, who looked much more relaxed now than when he’d first awoken.

“Sleep well, Prompto,” he uttered, before closing his eyes and turning his head away, his hands falling upon his chest as he sought sleep.

“Sweet dreams, Noct,” Prompto whispered, stealing a glance at his king before settling down himself. Within minutes, he was lulled to sleep by a warmth by his feet and the sound of Noctis’ breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, readers! Just wanted to write a quick note. I know Fae was mentioned a lot in this chapter, and I understand that sometimes people don't always take to original characters (I tend to be this way, unless the OC is well-developed and has a purpose to the story). So, I just wanted to give you a bit of reassurance that she does have purpose to the story, and that the focus will always remain on Noct and Prom. I just didn't want to deter anyone from continuing on with this by thinking she was going to dominate the story. My goal is always going to be creating wonderful Promptis moments throughout. I hope you're all enjoying this fic so far, and thank you so much for reading!


	5. Bridges Burned, Bridges Built

The next day passed quickly, thanks to the large number of tasks the boys had set out to do. They had done everything from mending clothes to canning food to constructing chocochick coops. Prompto thought a lot about what Libertus had told them—about the guy who had identified Prompto from the newspaper all those years ago, and had spread the word to the townspeople not to trust him or the king. He wondered how many people recognized them, how many people were faking smiles for them, and how many were plotting their demise behind their backs.

The following day was a little more laid-back, as Libertus had asked the two to go to the Galahd river and do a bit of fishing. Noctis was more than happy to help them stock up on as many fish as he could catch, and Prompto had naturally gone along with him, standing guard with Umbra while the king cast his line time after time into the river.

It was a beautiful place. They were far enough from town to escape the burnt landscape and dirt paths. Out here, the grass came up past their ankles, and conifer trees lined either side of the river. The trees continued up into the mountains as far as the eye could see, and the bright sun glistened on the water.

After a long while of waiting for Noctis, Prompto and Umbra took a short stroll around the area, never straying out of sight—only out of earshot. Prompto found a nice log to sit down on a little distance from Noctis, allowing Umbra to take a seat in front of him. He affectionately ruffled the fur around his neck, fingers sifting through slightly matted hair. The ends were stuck together like they sometimes did after a swim at the beach.

“Seems like Noct needs to brush you more often,” Prompto chuckled, softly. “I’d do it myself if I had a comb or something with me, but I guess for now, this is the best I can do.”

Umbra tilted his head, easing himself further into the man’s gentle touch. Prompto combed his fingers through the dog’s fur, tugging lightly as he reached the knotted ends, not wanting to hurt him. Umbra didn’t seem to mind.

“I guess you must miss Pryna, huh? Is it true what they said? That she passed away?” Prompto asked, watching for a response, but Umbra merely continued to pant in front of him, the slight lowering of his ears the only indication that the tragic news could be real.

“I know what it’s like to miss someone like that, someone who was like a part of you,” he said, his eyes flickering briefly to the figure fishing in the distance, but he quickly directed them back. “Pryna helped me back when I was separated from Noct and the others. I was in the snow all alone, and she guided me to where I needed to be. She made me realize I was more capable than I thought. I’ll never forget that.”

Umbra looked like he was listening intently now, his head cocked to one side as he watched Prompto through yellow eyes.

“You’ve helped us so much, too. I know Noct would be lost without you.”

At this, Umbra seemed to almost frown as he let out a grunting sound, and he stepped forward until he could rub affectionately against Prompto’s torso. He stuck his nose in the air, and licked at Prompto’s chin. Prompto squawked and wiped at his goatee with the back of his arm.

“What was that for?” he laughed, giving Umbra one last scratch behind the ears before getting up from the log. He stretched his arms above his head, and when he dropped them back to his sides, Umbra nudged him along with a wet nose against his forearm. Curious about his intentions, Prompto allowed the dog to guide him, back towards Noctis.

“How’s it going?” Noct asked, turning his head as the pair reached the dock, and eyeing the way Umbra was ushering Prompto forward.

“Noct, no offense, but your dog’s acting kind of weird,” Prompto grinned, looking slightly uneasy, even after Umbra finally stopped pushing him along and sat down beside him.

“Hey, don’t forget he’s a messenger from the Astrals. He’s probably smarter than the both of us,” Noct smirked. Umbra tilted his head up to look at Prompto before swiping his tongue affectionately over Prompto’s barcode. Prompto yanked his hand back and caressed it with the opposite one, wiping away the slobber with disgust.

“Yeah? Well, I think he’s still a canine at heart.”

“Maybe,” Noct laughed, warmly. His eyes lingered on Prompto’s wrist now, the way he rubbed his fingers over the black ink that he used to keep concealed and hidden away from the world.

Noctis wondered what it was that had made Prompto finally take off the leather band. Was it the fact that his friends had been accepting of that mark in Zegnautus, that they had convinced him it was _not _the mark of a traitor? Or had the world of ruin and darkness really brought people together so much that Prompto didn’t feel the need to hide? He supposed it didn’t matter. Prompto was brave enough now to not have to hide his past, and that was significant progress.

“What is it?” Prompto quizzed, noticing Noctis’ stare. Noctis shook his head apologetically.

“Sorry. I’m just... not used to seeing you leave your codeprint out in the open like that. Guess the world really has changed, huh? Or _you _have,” he smiled, fondly, _hopefully_. Prompto stared down at his wrist.

“To be honest, no one really ever asked about it, or even commented on it. Maybe most people don’t even know about the magitek facility’s procedures. Or maybe they don’t care. I guess a lot of people probably just thought it was a weird tattoo,” Prompto chuckled, softly. “But, yeah. It’s weird to finally feel... safe.”

“I guess, during that time, everyone had their own scars, huh? Their own pasts?”

“Yeah. We’d all lost something, and had to set aside our differences.”

“And you?” Noctis asked, eyes meeting Prompto’s in question. Prompto brushed his fingers over his barcode one last time before he let his hands fall back down to his sides.

“I decided I couldn’t keep living in fear, you know? Life is short, so... you just have to embrace who you are.”

Noctis gave him a small, sad smile, but his eyes shone with pride. He couldn’t describe how happy he was to see how strong Prompto had become, and he found himself wanting to recreate that accepting environment that Prompto had lived in during the years of darkness. He didn’t want anyone else to have to live the way Prompto had—terrified that someone would discriminate against him for origins that were beyond his control. The war was over. It was time that Eos knew true peace.

“Hey, I meant what I said back then,” Noctis announced. Prompto looked up at him with piqued interest, but found Noct’s gaze had wandered back to his wrist—to the mark that Prompto had once feared would eventually pull them apart. He supposed the fear wasn’t gone, but the reasons _why_ it could tear him from Noctis had changed.

“I want us to unite the two nations. I want _everyone _to be at peace,” Noctis went on, leaning on his fishing rod as it stood beside him. He looked so pensive, so serious. He wanted to ask whether Prompto was still with him in this, but he was scared of what the answer might be, so he kept his mouth shut. It was just as well. To Prompto, ‘ever at your side’ felt like an empty promise now.

Prompto watched him intently as he stared blankly at the grass, his face looking so regal, despite the casual clothes in which he was currently dressed. Prompto smiled softly, wishing he could give Noctis anything and everything he needed to make his dream a reality, but he didn’t know how, or if he even could.

He wondered what the world would be like if Noctis really did succeed in making that dream a reality. Things had come a long way in the past ten years; since people had needed to ban together to fight off the daemons, Niffs, Lucians, Tenebraens—citizens from all over—had come to enough of an understanding to work together, without much hate or prejudice. They had all been stuck in the same boat, and in the end, they’d all needed each other’s help. Blood hadn’t mattered so much anymore.

Prompto wondered if Noctis’ ruling might rid the world of the last of its distrust of those born in Niflheim. He wondered if Noct might succeed in creating a world of peace. He wondered if he himself would ever get to see that world. All he knew was that whatever Noct did as king, he would make his father proud. He would give everything he could to better the lives of not just Lucians, but everyone in Eos. For that, Prompto was beyond proud as well.

“Noct?” he eventually murmured, drawing his friend’s eyes to him. They were gentle, but curious, and Prompto thought that maybe Noctis was hoping for something more than just words. “You’re going to be an amazing ruler.”

Noctis lowered his eyes and blushed slightly, rubbing the back of his head.

“Thanks,” he chuckled, meekly. “I’m just trying to survive the first year as king.”

“Well, you’re doing a great job. Honest,” Prompto continued to tenderly smile.

“I don’t feel like I’ve done much,” Noctis shrugged, with an upward quirk of his lips.

“What? You’ve rebuilt or restored pretty much everything in Insomnia. It’s actually a city again! You don’t give yourself enough credit, dude.” Prompto’s fist nudged against Noctis’ shoulder, which made Noctis’ heart flutter the way it used to when they were teenagers, and every small touch was exhilarating. He rubbed his shoulder after Prompto’s hand had fallen away, as if it might make the contact sink directly into his skin.

“And _you_ probably give me more credit than I deserve,” Noctis smirked, but his eyes looked genuinely happy. Prompto merely grinned at him, before drawing his attention to the large bucket of fish that his friend had nearly filled.

“You think that’s enough to take back?”

“I sure hope so. The sun will be setting soon, and we’ve been out here for hours. Not that I’m complaining about the freedom to fish, of course, but I _am_ starting to feel a little gross from being out in this heat all day,” Noctis sighed, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm.

“Me, too. This place is nice and all, but I’m about ready to call it a day,” Prompto agreed. On top of getting himself cleaned up, he was also looking forward to a good meal and something to cure his parched throat.

Noctis reached for the bucket of fish, and lifted it, finding it heavier than he’d anticipated, but he was sure he could manage. He walked alongside Prompto, while Umbra trotted close by, nudging their knees every so often to coax them closer.

“What’s he doing?” Prompto laughed, as the dog’s nose tickled the back of his knees through his pants.

“No idea. Playing matchmaker, maybe?” Noctis chuckled back. He glanced at Prompto, who didn’t seem to have enjoyed the joke nearly as much. He looked like he’d swallowed something distasteful, his eyes big and solemn. When Noct looked closer, Prompto appeared guilty, his head hung low and his gaze on the ground. Noct regretted saying anything at all.

“I’m kidding,” the king said, forcing a chuckle and nudging Prompto playfully with his elbow. Prompto pushed forth a strained smile in return.

They walked for a few minutes after that in silence, with Noctis glancing over every so often to make sure Prompto was okay. He still didn’t look well. His bottom lip was constantly being tugged between his teeth, so much that Noctis worried he would bite right through it if he tripped in the long grass.

He wished he hadn’t made the comment about Umbra trying to get them together, but at the same time, he wondered why the thought was so unsavoury. When Noctis thought back on all their time spent together—lazy afternoons curled up in a blanket in front of the TV, nights cuddled close together in the warmth of a tent or hotel bed, heated kisses that took Noctis’ breath away—all he could do was yearn for those days, yearn for Prompto. He had to wonder, how could Prompto not miss those things, too?

Prompto seemed to pick up on what Noctis was thinking, or at least felt the need to explain his earlier reaction and the silence that had followed.

“You know that when I was growing up, things were far from perfect. Things with my parents… the way I felt about myself…” Prompto started, and although his gaze didn’t venture towards Noctis’, Noctis still watched him with a slightly turned head.

“That’s why, when I fell for you, I fully believed I couldn’t actually have you. You were royalty and way out of my league, but for some reason, you fell for me, too. It didn’t make sense that you did, but I was so happy. It was the first time I felt what it was like to be wanted. To be loved,” Prompto went on, his voice still soft and somewhat sad, but there was a tiny smile playing on the corners of his lips. Noctis remained so still and quiet, not wanting to do anything that would stop this beautiful speech from continuing. Finally, Prompto drew his eyes to his friend, and there was a seriousness in them.

“Noct, you have to understand how hard it was to get over you, to tell myself that you might not be coming back. I had to find out who I was without you, and it was hard,” Prompto said, his voice coming out hoarse, like it was difficult to even choke those words out. It was.

He would never forget how miserable life was after Noct had entered his crystal slumber. He couldn’t rid his memory of how hard he’d cried, so hard that Gladio and Ignis had come into his room some nights to settle him down before he made himself sick. He couldn’t forget that painful lump in his stomach that had been a constant reminder that something important was missing, something he wasn’t sure he could live without.

Ten years of loneliness had passed, and at some point during that time, yes, Prompto had used all the strength he had in him to shut his feelings of Noctis away. The man probably wasn’t coming back. If he ever did, Ignis had told him he wouldn’t be back for long, barely long enough to say a proper goodbye. It was a devastating reality that Prompto had hardly known how to cope with until he’d learned to ignore it.

“My defences went up big time because I was scared of getting attached to anything I might have to lose one day. So, please, forgive me for having some trouble opening up right now. It’s not that I don’t care... It’s that I probably just care too much,” Prompto admitted, softly, taking comfort in the fact that every word he spoke to Noctis this time was the absolute truth. Sure, he was leaving out a vital reason as to why he was keeping his distance, but at least this confession played a part.

It took a minute for Noctis to drink in all of that information, and when it finally had time to settle in his brain, he placed a hand on Prompto’s shoulder as they walked. He was thankful that Prompto didn’t shy away from his touch.

“So, you… are having a hard time letting your guard down because of all those years you had to spend alone?”

“That’s the gist of it,” Prompto nodded, solemnly.

“It’s okay to let your guard down, Prompto. Especially around me,” Noctis said, eyes sad, but caring. He could tell Prompto wanted to shrink under his gaze, so he spoke on.

“But I get that it’s hard. And thank you. For telling me all of that,” Noctis whispered, his dark blue eyes digging deep into Prompto’s.

His gaze was so intense, Prompto wanted to look away, but what kept him there was how much that expression reflected that of their last night around the campfire, when they had all shed some tears for the man who was going to give his life for them the next day. Noctis looked so concerned, so _sorry_, and Prompto’s heart wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss that expression away, replacing it with smiles and laughter, but he couldn’t—not until the truth came out, until Noctis knew what he was getting into, until he knew it would all eventually end up in ashes.

It still came as a slight surprise to him to witness just how much this man of royal stature wanted someone like him. It still made Prompto’s heart flutter when Noctis looked at him like that, or said something that proved that his love still ran extraordinarily deep. _Noctis still loves me. Noctis still loves me._ He wanted to set the words on repeat in his head, as they were so incredibly comforting after everything Prompto had been through, but it would only hurt him more in the end. His heart wanted to echo back _I still love Noctis_ just as endlessly, but it had taken months to convince himself that he couldn't act on those feelings. He couldn’t let his walls break so easily.

“For me, those ten years in the crystal were kind of a blur, and I don’t think I really tried to comprehend what it must have felt like for you to be alone for so long,” Noctis admitted. “I… I think that’s why I was so taken with your hunter tags and clothes. They sort of connected me to that time in your life that I was unaware of. A time I had completely missed.”

Prompto thought about that, and smiled softly, reaching for the clasp around his neck. He undid it, and unveiled the brown cord and tags that had been hidden beneath his t-shirt collar. He handed them over to Noctis, who let his hand fall from Prompto’s shoulder to accept them.

“You should hang on to these,” Prompto said, earning an uncertain look from Noctis. “I _want _you to feel connected to me. And maybe these will help, especially right now while I’m having some trouble… letting myself feel connected to _you_.”

Noctis appeared touched by those words, as well as completely grateful, and with a gentle nod, he laced the tags around his neck, assuring the clasp was tightly secured. As he finished, he let his fingers drift down to the pieces of metal that adorned the cord, his thumb brushing over the engraving of Prompto’s name.

”Thank you, Prom. This means a lot,” Noctis murmured, and Prompto smiled tenderly at the sound of his nickname that he hadn’t heard in far too long. He reached over to give Noctis’ shoulder a squeeze.

“You’re welcome.”

They reached the outskirts of town within a few more minutes of walking, but this area was abandoned, having suffered the most damage from daemon and imperial attacks. The buildings here seemed to crumble more as they merely walked by. The sounds of small, tumbling pebbles and creaking wood accompanied their footsteps as they proceeded down the dirt road. They stuck close together, with Umbra at their heels, feeling a little uneasy in this section of Galahd. Whether the eeriness came from being in a place that had undergone so much tragedy, or the feeling that they were being watched, they weren’t sure, but they quickened their pace regardless.

“Is it just me—?”

“It’s not just you,” Noctis said, with a frown. Before they had time to check their surroundings, Umbra let out a sharp bark, and gunshots fired.

“Noct, get down!” Prompto shouted, slapping an arm around Noctis’ back, and pushing him into a deep crouch. The fishing rod and bucket of freshly caught carp went tumbling to the ground without a second thought.

Noct barely had time to catch his breath as Prompto ushered him behind a partially intact brick wall—the only wall left standing of an otherwise crumbled house. They made it behind cover just in time for a few more shots to fire. Prompto manoeuvred Noctis to sit against the wall, so quickly Noctis hardly realized he was moving. Was he just out of practice? Was he stunned by the mere shock of the attack? Or was there something endearing in the way Prompto was protecting him that made him stay put?

He found himself unable to do anything but stare up at the man above him, a frown on Prompto’s matured face as he summoned his own firearm, and Noct felt the familiar tug on his magics as he did—a feeling that was somewhat intoxicating whenever it involved Prompto. The way his energy entered Noctis’ body and pulled the magic straight from his veins… It made Noctis yearn for him more.

Back when the four of them used to fight together, it was hard at times to single out Prompto’s energy when he, Gladio, and Ignis had all been summoning their weapons in a frenzy, but those moments when it was only Prompto drawing from him were rare and beautiful. Noctis wanted to drown in the sensation.

He watched this older, stronger Prompto with his back against the wall, both hands on his gun as he held it up against his chest, barrel pointed to the sky. In that moment he looked like a hunter, with his muscular arms, firmly set jaw, and eyes of steel. His sweet, timid Prompto was a man now, and quite honestly, with all that strength and confidence, he was breathtaking.

When the shots from the other side of the wall ceased, Prompto leaned out to the side, firing a few shots back. Umbra barked and growled, and Noctis had a moment of panic when he realized the dog was still out there.

“Umbra! Come!” Noct hissed, urgently, and the messenger obeyed, scurrying out of the danger zone to come and sit in front of his king.

Noctis reached his arms out for him, pulling the dog’s head in close to his chest, protecting him and silently telling him that he’d done well. His heart pounded in his throat as Prompto leaned out for a second time, shooting at the villain, and then, in an instant, he was gone. Noctis spun his head towards the spot where he’d been, catching a mere flash of blue as he warped toward the enemy on the other side of the street.

Panic struck again, and Noctis got to his feet, startling Umbra in the process. The dog hobbled backwards as Noctis pushed him out of the way, and he stepped out from behind the wall. His heart was in his throat as he caught sight of more blue flashes and bright orange gun flares from within a broken window of a house across the way. Noctis summoned his blade and warped forward to get there faster. He darted around the side of the house, where a wall had completely fallen in. By the time he had made it inside the rubble, Prompto was standing by himself, panting, looking down at an unconscious man on the ground.

“Prompto! Prompto, are you okay?” Noct scrambled to ask, hurrying over the debris of bricks and reaching his hands out for his friend’s shoulders. Prompto flinched at the touch. He was holding his opposite bicep tightly, one eye squinting in pain, his face quite pale.

“You’re hurt,” Noctis gaped, before Prompto could get any words out, eyes wide and full of alarm.

“He just grazed me,” Prompto grunted, his pained voice and hitching breath _not_ making Noctis any less worried. He continued to hold Prompto’s shoulders as he studied the man on the ground. He looked like a man of Galahd, with worn clothes of similar fashion to those they’d seen in town, his face dirtied and bruised where Prompto must have knocked him out with the end of his gun.

“You’re not safe here, Noct,” Prompto strained to get out.

“Ssshhh, it’s okay,” Noctis hushed, and gently moved his hands to Prompto’s injured limb, guiding his protective hand out of the way. Prompto made a quiet noise of discomfort as Noctis pressed a palm against the bloody gash that the bullet had left on the outside of his arm. His squinted eyes and furrowed brows lessened at the green glow of Noctis’ healing magic, the cool sensation relieving the pain and closing the open wound.

“Noct,” Prompto breathed peacefully, in a manner that Noctis had heard in much more intimate circumstances. Noctis pushed that thought aside, and focused on all that was precious in _this_ moment—the feel of his skin on Prompto’s, and the fact that Prompto still trusted him enough to let him take away his pain.

“Does it feel okay?” Noctis eventually asked, letting the glow die out, and carefully lifting his hand from the injury. A small patch of slightly reddened skin was all that remained now, and Noctis silently praised himself for a job well done.

“Yeah, it does. Thanks,” Prompto smiled softly, looking relived, but a little weak. He skimmed a hand over the previously marred skin, and was thankful to find next to no pain. His attention quickly fell back to the man on the ground, and he inched closer to Noctis.

“He might not be out for long. We should hurry,” he insisted.

“Right. Umbra? Oh, there you are,” Noct confirmed, spying the dog who had at some point wandered over to stand behind him.

“Maybe I should...” Prompto trailed off as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He crouched to take a few shots of the unconscious man, before standing upright again.

“In case we need to identify him later,” Prompto explained.

“Right. So, if you’re okay to move, we should probably head out,” Noctis said, with one last glance at Prompto to make sure he was alright.

“I’m fine. Let’s go,” Prompto agreed with a nod. They hurried back towards town, so close that their arms brushed for the rest of the trek.

* * *

Prompto didn’t risk letting Noctis go back into town. Instead, he sent him to wait in the car with Umbra, while he discreetly went into town to collect their belongings. He slipped a haphazardly written note to Libertus, letting him know what was going on, before sneaking out undetected by most.

Noctis sat forward in his seat, relieved when Prompto came into view over the hilly dirt path. He reached for the keys in the ignition and started up the car, driving down the bumpy road until he met him, not wanting to make him walk the whole way when he was probably still shaken from the attack. Prompto tossed their bags into the backseat, next to Umbra, before hopping into his seat next to Noctis.

Noctis had an elbow on the door of the car as he waited for Prompto to buckle up, biting absently on the knuckle of his index finger.

“I’m nervous, too,” Prompto assured him. “I’ll be glad when we make it back to the Citadel.”

“The Citadel?” Noctis queried, shooting a shocked glance at Prompto. Prompto shrugged under that intense stare.

“I thought that’s where we were going. You remember getting attacked, right?”

“It’s _because_ we got attacked that we need to keep going. We need to lay the groundwork for good relations. If I just go and hide in my fancy castle, that’s not going to change the people’s opinion of me,” Noctis reminded him harshly, and Prompto rubbed his red arm with a sorrowful, downcast face. Noct swallowed as a pang of guilt set in.

“I’m sorry. I guess that’s easy for me to say, huh? I’m not the one who got shot.”

“Ah—” Prompto gasped in mock offence. “I was _barely_ shot, thank you very much,” he jested, but drew his serious, blue eyes to Noctis. “But, hey, if you want to keep going, that’s okay. I just want you to be sure. Looks like you _will _be in danger out there.”

“I know, but…” Noctis exhaled heavily. “I feel like this is something I need to do. Maybe I could make some grand speech when we went back, but would it really change anything? Actions speak much louder than words, they say.”

“Yeah. So they say,” Prompto mused, but so far, actions hadn’t done much for getting the truth across to Noctis, and as far as words went, no suitable ones would come to him.

“Where to next, then?” he asked, letting Noct know that he was up for this adventure. Noctis met his eyes with surprise and genuine thanks at his eagerness.

“Altissia.”

* * *

The drive to Cape Caem was long and silent. Prompto felt like he’d opened his mouth a hundred times, and snapped it shut again, convincing himself each time that it was best to wait until after their business in Altissia to deliver the news to Noctis. Noct needed to be focused, and Prompto was sure that if he told him anything now, that focus would be thrown out the window.

Once at Cape Caem, they headed for the lighthouse and down to the harbour below. It was funny, Prompto thought, to see it so empty now. There had been a time in his hunting days when Cape Caem had been bustling with people as they worked to bring back the sunlight. He couldn’t say he missed those days, as they were tiring and lonely, but he did miss the people—Cid, Holly, Vyv… They had all played a part in making the world as safe and good as it could be, and they had made Prompto feel like Noctis wasn’t really so far away. All the people who had met him and cared about him were still here, each one of them carrying their own memories of the young prince, and reminding Prompto that he wasn’t alone in his suffering.

He continued to think on this as Noctis drove the boat out of the harbour and into Altissia, though he helped out with any small tasks on deck that Noctis asked him to do. It was nighttime when they got to the city, and they were both relieved to see the bright, round lights on top of striped lamp posts, welcoming them to Altissia. They grabbed their bags, and coaxed Umbra along as they stepped onto the dock, taking in the sights and smells of a city that Noctis feared would be different than when he’d last seen it.

After the dealings with Leviathan, the city had lost entire sections of its architecture, and the citizens had been forced to either watch or be swept along as the great beast lashed its tail around, dragging broken chunks of land straight into the ocean. At least, in this part of the city, none of that damage was evident. Noctis hoped Prompto wouldn’t want to venture through the _entire_ city, because he was scared to see the destruction firsthand. He didn’t want to see what was missing, didn’t want to see how much had been lost, all because of his inability to tame Leviathan in time.

A hand on his wrist brought him out of his dark thoughts, and he was thankful for it. He met Prompto’s excited eyes, a bright gleam in them that Noctis had not seen in years.

“Look, Noct! They reopened the gelato stand! It wasn’t open when I was here last time!”

Noctis turned to view the rounded, glass case of gelato which seemed to contain every colour of the rainbow. He chuckled softly as Prompto ogled the variety of flavours, his open mouth already watering.

“You want to get something? My treat,” Noctis offered.

“That’s alright, Noct. I’ll get it,” Prompto said, reaching into his pants pocket for some loose change. There was a hand on his in an instant, stopping him.

“I don’t think so,” Noct smiled, warmly. “You took a bullet for me today. I think the least I can do is buy you an ice cream.”

Prompto flushed slightly, unable to argue with that. He felt oddly timid as Noctis stepped forward to order their gelato cups. He was sure the woman at the booth thought they were a cute couple as she smiled shyly at them, and Prompto found himself missing the days when that was true. They probably still looked cute together, but the couple part was definitely lacking.

Being out here with Noctis, though, in one of the most magical places they used to frequent, made Prompto want—more than ever—to let his guard down. He wanted to hold Noctis’ hand as they roamed these beautiful streets, and never let go.

“One coconut cream,” the girl announced, placing one cup on top of the case, before reaching out to scoop up the next. Noctis reached out for the cup and popped a plastic spoon into it.

“Your order, sir,” he chivalrously announced, handing it to Prompto with a playful smile.

“Thanks,” Prompto grinned, sheepishly. He swiped his spoon over the top of the dessert, gathering up a thin layer of the creamy, frozen treat and bringing it to his lips. It was as scrumptious as he remembered.

“And one peach-flavoured,” the worker called out, cheerfully. She traded Noctis the gelato cup for a handful of gil, and the two boys headed for one of the nearby tables. They pulled out a couple of white, plastic chairs, and sat down, careful not to drip any gelato on the blue, velvet tablecloth.

Umbra sat down patiently beside Noctis while they ate, all of them enjoying the Altissian nightlife. The orange reflection of the moon shimmered on the water like streaks of vibrant paint. Numerous food-carts filled the air with a plethora of delicious aromas—freshly cooked meats and home-fries, sweet pies and desserts.

“Thank you, Noct. This is so good,” Prompto marveled, taking larger bites of his gelato now that Noctis was settled with his own as well.

“No worries. Mine’s good, too,” he agreed, taking a spoonful into his mouth.

“So, what’s the plan? Head to the Leville for the night, and talk to Secretary Claustra tomorrow?”

“Well, I figured that would be best. We can ask her what she needs, and I’ll call Ignis to have him send provisions here, too. That truck should be arriving in Galahd anytime now. I just hope the driver’s okay,” Noct said, and Prompto was disappointed when a frown appeared between his brows. He looked so much better when he was carefree.

“I hope so. With any luck, the people who are threatening you won’t target _everyone _from the Citadel. Uh, I-I mean, I don’t want them marking _you_ a target either, but… Ugh, you know what I mean,” Prompto stuttered, and Noctis laughed.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. You want everyone to be safe, just as I do,” he replied, his kingly tone returning to his voice, and Prompto had to admit, he really admired how much he’d matured. At times, he took on so much of his father’s grace, it was stifling.

“I… sort of feel like a coward for taking off like that in Galahd. Maybe we should have stayed, and proved that we weren’t going anywhere. Proved that we weren’t afraid, despite their threats,” Noctis said, lowering his voice as well as his gaze. Prompto swallowed a mouthful of gelato and shook his head.

“No way. Don’t feel like that. We have no idea how many people are out there who are looking to kill you. If the world loses its king, then what’s the point of this second chance that the Astrals gave you?” Prompto reminded him, with a crease between his own brows now.

Noctis briefly met his eyes, but quickly averted his gaze again. He opened his mouth, but it took him a few breaths before he was actually ready to speak.

“Can I… can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” Prompto agreed, a mix of curiosity and worry appearing on his face. The tone of Noctis’ voice was fragile—scared, even—and Prompto had no idea what had his king suddenly looking so shaken. He wanted him to know he was there for him.

“You remember when you found me in the throne room?” Noctis asked, and he saw Prompto flinch across the table.

“Yeah,” Prompto uttered, in a shaky exhale. “I remember.”

It was all too clear, the image of Noctis pinned to his throne by his father’s blade. Prompto and Gladio had charged up the stairs, gripping at Noctis with tear-stained cheeks as Ignis wandered up blindly behind them. They’d been unable to describe to him what was going on; it was simply too horrible. As soon as Gladio had touched the blade to remove it, however, it had disintegrated into small, purple orbs that floated up into the air before disappearing completely. One touch of Prompto’s hand on Noctis’ face, and a quiet whisper of his name, and the king had opened his eyes.

They had cried so hard it turned into laughter, had hugged so much it hurt. They had cleaned Noctis up, ridding him of the blood on his chest, and finding no wound whatsoever, despite the blade that had been thrust through him. It had been nothing short of a miracle, and when Prompto thought back on it now, he wished he had let Noctis know how truly thankful he was for that miracle. He’d had the chance that night in the caravan; perhaps he should have taken it.

“I don’t think it was the Astrals. I mean, I don’t think they were acting _alone_, at least. I don’t know for sure, of course. But I—” He cut off with a sharp inhale, and set his spoon down. He pushed a hand through the front of his long hair, pushing some strands away from his face.

“I kind of think it was my dad?” It came out sounding like a question, but Prompto thought it was more out of fear of being called insane than any sort of uncertainty. The look in Noctis’ eyes told Prompto that he fully believed what he was saying.

“Really? I don’t think that sounds so strange,” Prompto assured him.

“You don’t?” Noctis’ brows were creased in surprise and concern.

“Of course not. Your dad was a good king. He might have had some pull with the kings of old, you know? And besides, he devoted his life to keeping you safe. It doesn’t seem so unlikely that he would continue to do that, even after death,” Prompto said, sounding so matter-of-fact that it made Noctis feel not so crazy.

It made him wonder why he’d kept it a secret for this long. Perhaps it was because talking about his father wasn’t easy at the best of times, and something this personal was usually only shared with Prompto. So, with Prompto being so distant lately, this probably _was, _in fact, his first opportunity to speak about it.

“Thanks for saying that.” Noctis gave a smile that was hesitant at first, but he allowed it to grow as relief set in.

“I mean it, too,” Prompto smiled back. Noct drew his attention to Prompto’s empty gelato cup.

“You done?”

“Yup, all set.”

They got up and dumped their cups and spoons into a nearby garbage can before heading for the hotel. They asked for a room that accommodated pets, and trotted upstairs along with Umbra. Noctis swung the door open to reveal one of the Leville’s luxurious rooms, with two double-beds, a coffee table, sofa, and two comfy-looking chairs.

“Wow,” Prompto awed. “I don’t think we need all of this, but wow.”

“Think of how many nights we spent camping. I think we owe it to ourselves,” Noctis laughed, setting his bag down on the coffee table. As Prompto was admiring the view from the giant window that led out to the balcony, Noctis took his bag from his arm as well and set it down for him.

Umbra hopped happily up on the sofa, and curled in on himself, ready for a good sleep.

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” Noctis mused, smiling softly as he ventured over to stand beside his ally. Prompto nodded, eyes still on the white and gold lights that pierced through the darkness outside, while reciprocating Noctis’ smile.

“It really is.”

“You gonna snap a few pictures?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, not sure if I have my camera with me or not. And my phone definitely wouldn’t do this justice,” Prompto frowned, returning to his bag to rummage through it.

Noctis watched with barely masked concern as Prompto looked for what was once his most prized possession. Since when did Prompto go _anywhere _without making sure his camera was with him? Was it possible he had grown out of photography, or lost interest in it? Noct silently decided it was probably more likely that Prompto had had less time for it since their roadtrip days.

“A-ha!” Buried in the corner of his bag, protected by balled up clothing, was Prompto’s camera, and he lifted it out with a triumphant grin—forced or not, Noctis honestly couldn’t tell.

“You mind?” Prompto asked, with a glance back at Noct.

“Of course not. It was my idea, wasn’t it? Enjoy,” Noctis softly beamed, watching as Prompto slid the glass over and stepped onto the balcony, sliding it closed again before he began adjusting his lens and snapping shots of the city.

Noctis dug in his own bag for some comfortable sleep clothes, but halted on his way to the bathroom as he watched Prompto out there on the balcony. He looked so beautiful in the moonlight—he always had—as its glow shimmered brilliantly in his golden hair. It brought out the silver when the moon was a bright white, and the yellows and oranges when the moon was as colourful and vibrant as it was now. He noted his strong arms, the lines of each muscle as he moved with his camera, the curves of his shoulder bones as they shifted under his dark teal shirt. Noctis had always thought Prompto was stunning, but growing up had been kind to him, making him just as handsome, if not moreso.

Noctis hummed softly, chiding himself for staring like that, but he couldn’t help it. Prompto was gorgeous. He was _the one_. If Noctis had to spend the rest of his life finding tiny, subtle ways to let him know that, so be it. He wasn’t about to give up. Not now. Not ever.

* * *

_Prompto was startled by the sound of a metal door sliding open somewhere in the distance, his insides churning as he wondered who his visitor was this time, and what they intended to do with him. He summoned all the strength he had to lift his head, but the pain in his neck was too great, and he gave up instead, too tired to fight through it. He heard someone approach with quiet steps, and heard a key turning in the gate ahead before it swung open. If it was a guard, he half-wished they would put him out of his misery before Ardyn returned._

_He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand his aching arms that were holding up most of his weight, or his legs that he was barely able to keep from going numb. He didn’t know how much longer he could take the violent rumbling of his stomach, the raw pangs of hunger, or his parched throat that was like a desert. It wouldn’t be too much longer before normal bodily functions would become an issue, too. Would Ardyn let him out to take care of business? Or would he continue to be stuck here in his own mess?_

_The intruder continued to approach, and to Prompto’s surprise, he felt a gentle hand on the side of his face. Stunned and confused, he looked up to meet the glistening blue eyes of his prince._

_ “N-noct?” he whispered, hoarsely, his heavy eyelids blinking in disbelief. He took in the sight of the man’s dark Crownsguard fatigues, the details in the leather, the skulls on his shirt, the bracer on his arm. There was no way his brain could dream up this many details, could it? It had to be real. Finally, Noctis had found him._

_ “I’m glad you’re alive, Prompto,” Noct murmured, cupping the sides of Prompto’s face, and stroking his thumbs over his bruised cheeks._

“_Noct...” he whimpered, tearfully. He allowed himself to close his eyes, but much to his dismay the warmth left his face, and didn’t return. He opened his eyes abruptly. Why wasn’t he being let free? Why was Noctis walking away?_

“_Noct?” he asked, so confused and utterly distraught. “Where are you going? Help! Please! Before he comes back.” He pulled hard against his restraints, but to no avail._

_ The prince halted mid-step, and shifted his weight to his back foot as he turned around to look at the prisoner, chained up and so pathetic._

_ “Help you? After you hid from me what you were?” Noct asked, incredulously, his brows twisting up in disgust._

“_I told you all that I knew at the time! I told you I was from Niflheim, remember?” Prompto pleaded. _

_His heart was pounding so hard in his ears, he could hardly hear himself speak. This couldn’t be happening. After all those years of having no one he could trust, he had placed all his confidence in Noctis—had trusted that Noct would never hurt him, or abandon him—and here they were. His prince was turning his back on him, just like everyone else from his childhood._

“_Niflheim. You remember what Niflheim did to my home, right?” Noctis snarkily replied. Prompto recoiled, looking so small and wounded, but refusing to say anything more, __fearful__ of making things worse. Noctis marched back over to him and leaned in close to his ear._

“_They let my father and my kingdom die. And you… You were supposed to be a part of their enormous army. You __were meant to be__ an MT. How am I supposed to trust you?” Noctis hissed, and Prompto closed his eyes to push out the tears that were pooling uncomfortably within them._

“I_ trusted_ you_,” he whispered, continuing to silently cry. “I’ve never trusted anyone like I trusted you, Noct. And I swear, I would never hurt you.” The thought of __hurting__ Noctis, or __even anyone close to him, __made him sick to his stomach. Anything that caused Noctis pain or heartache had always made him feel like his own heart was attached. When Noctis ached, he ached._

“_I can’t take that chance,” Noctis said. “We’re through.” Prompto hung his head low and continued to let himself cry, far less able to keep his sobs soundless now as Noctis headed for the door._

“_I loved you, Noct,” he breathed. _

_He hadn’t expected Noctis to hear it from where he stood, but maybe the words had come out more loudly and desperately than he’d imagined. Noctis spun around on his heel again, but Prompto didn’t bother to look up, not even when he felt hands _ _return to his face. _ _H_ _e was too afraid he would see hate in those eyes that had always made him feel so safe; _ _i_ _f that look of safety and love was gone, he didn’t know if he could cope._

“_I guess... a goodbye kiss wouldn’t hurt.__”_

“_What?” Prompto asked, __meekly, __brows crinkling in confusion._

“_For old time’s sake?”_

_ Prompto forced himself to pull his head up, and his mouth parted in horror when it was Ardyn—not Noctis—staring him in the face. The Chancellor’s cold fingers lingered on his cheeks, a thumb grazing over his jaw where Noctis’ had been._

“_Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Ardyn sang, in false sympathy. Prompto let out a half-cry, half-__sob__ as he realized he’d been tricked in the most horrible of ways. Just __as Ardyn __had swapped places with him on the train, he apparently had the ability to take on Noctis’ appearance as well. __O__r Prompto was just too exhausted and delirious to fight whatever spell he had on him._

“_You bastard!” he yelled. “Get your hands off of me!”_

_The gentle touch that he’d believed was Noctis’ transformed into an icy one as Ardyn retracted a hand; the one that remained cupped itself around Prompto’s jaws, squeezing them together tightly and painfully, making his cheeks pucker. Prompto flinched, one eye closing from the pain, but he tried not to let it show, for it would give Ardyn too much satisfaction._

“_Now, now, no need to get hostile. You wear yourself out, and your body might just give out before your real prince comes for you. That is… if he comes for you at all,” Ardyn taunted._

“_Why do you need me? Just let me go,” Prompto pleaded._

“_Because, my dear Prompto, you have just confirmed for me that you are the perfect bait for bringing the young prince Noctis here. You _are_ his heart’s desire, are you not?”_

_ Prompto’s eyes widened in fear as he realized what that meant for Noctis. He was about to be the thing to lure Noctis into danger. He hated himself for being the prince's weakness. _

_He didn’t know how to respond to Ardyn's words, so he simply lowered his head again, avoiding eye contact._

“_Please, don’t hurt Noct. If he’s the reason you’re doing this, then just… do whatever you want with me instead, okay? I don’t care what happens as long as he’s safe.”_

“_You misunderstand. Killing you would do me no good, really. As much as I would love to see the look on his face if he found naught but your corpse in here, I would be disappointed if you never got to tell him the truth of your origins. That expression of his would surely be even more precious,” Ardyn smirked, finally letting go of Prompto’s face, but not without giving it a harsh jerk to the side first. _

_Prompto _ _stifled a groan_ _ and gingerly opened and closed his jaw, assessing the damage. Thankfully, there was only some slight discomfort. He felt the sting of fresh tears, but refused to let Ardyn see them; he didn’t deserve the proof that he’d shaken him._

“_I do hope he gets here in time. It would be a pity if he never got to see you again,” Ardyn said, with a __mocking__ pout, his cold, cruel laughter echoing as he exited the cell, leaving Prompto alone with his tears._

* * *

Noctis awoke to the sound of soft whimpers and strangled breaths. He blinked through the darkness, realizing it was nowhere near morning yet. He glanced over at the bed beside him to where Prompto appeared to be having a restless sleep. One knee was bent up against the mattress, the other tangled in a mess of sheets. His arms were spread out on either side of him, and he let out another choking breath as he lay there on his back.

Noctis threw the sheets off of himself and crossed the distance between his bed and Prompto’s in a second. In the moonlight, he could see Prompto’s tense features, his clenched jaw and frightened expression, his upward-turned brows and tightly shut eyes.

“Prompto,” Noctis murmured, placing a hand on his companion’s shoulder, which only made Prompto squirm under his touch. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Umbra perk up his head at the sound of his voice, but once he confirmed his master had everything under control, he lowered himself back down and continued to rest.

”Prompto, wake up.” With a gentle shake, Prompto bolted awake, his eyes opening wide with terror, and his breaths coming out in heavy pants. It took him a minute to focus his gaze on Noctis, but when he finally did, the panic in his eyes transformed into shame and embarrassment. He slowly pulled his arms in against his sides, and used his hands to push himself upright. Noctis eased himself down to sit on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently while Prompto caught his breath.

“You okay?” he asked, when he felt his friend was probably ready to speak.

“Just a stupid dream,” Prompto replied, hoarsely.

He ran a hand through the front of his swooped-up hair, suddenly realizing how much his arms were trembling. He was thankful for the hand that made its way to his back, rubbing gently as he tried to calm down. There had been so many nights like this—too many to possibly count—but Noctis had never been there to talk him down from his terror, despite how many times he’d wished for him to be. Now that he was here, Prompto was a little embarrassed, but still, it was nice not to be alone.

“You want to talk about it?” Noctis tried, and Prompto fidgeted where he sat. He pressed his lips firmly together, reminding Noctis of when he’d told the group the truth behind his barcode. He’d looked scared and uncertain, just as he did now, his eyes shifting nervously from side-to-side.

“I was trapped in Zegnautus with Ardyn. That’s where I always am when I dream like that.” The words came out slow, each one bringing Noctis a little more pain as it was delivered.

“You still…?” he tried again, this time failing to get out an entire sentence. _You still suffer from that? To this day, you still can’t escape those memories? _Either option sounded terrible.

“Yeah,” Prompto nodded, understanding anyway. “I guess there are some things people never quite recover from.”

Even with his head hung low, he could feel Noctis’ gaze on him, and he felt the hand on his back deepen its touch, rubbing circles a little more confidently. As hard as it was to speak about his nightmares, it felt good to finally get this off his chest. It was liberating to share this piece of himself that had been eating away at him, this piece that no one had known had remained broken all this time.

“Prompto? What happened when Ardyn captured you? We… never got to talk about it,” Noctis said, quietly. If Prompto was sharing his nightmares about Ardyn, maybe he would want to share the parts of his experience that weren’t mere illusion, too. Sometimes it felt good to share, even if it was painful.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Noct, so don’t take this the wrong way, but I still don’t think I’m ready to talk about it. I… I might never be,” Prompto admitted, his voice so very meek now.

Noctis swallowed hard, desperately wishing he could have prevented Prompto from this suffering. If Prompto believed he might never be ready to talk about what Ardyn did to him, then maybe Noctis was better off never knowing. It would only hurt him, would only make him furious at that lowlife of a Chancellor, and as a result, would only make Prompto feel worse.

“I am _so_ sorry for letting this happen to you,” Noctis murmured.

He was surprised to feel Prompto leaning backwards against him, and Noctis scooted in to meet him, his chest meeting and supporting Prompto’s back. The hand he’d had on Prompto’s spine travelled to his waist instead, and to his satisfaction, Prompto didn’t seem to mind, even when he began brushing his thumb against the bare skin between his shirt and waistband.

“It’s not your fault, Noct. None of it was. It was all Ardyn,” Prompto promised him, knowing full-well the guilt Noctis had carried around after accidentally pushing him off of the moving train to Gralea, and for being so late in his rescue.

“You know,” Noctis started, with a deep breath. “One of the biggest regrets of my life is from that night in Zegnautus. Our last night together.”

Prompto turned his head ever so slowly, meeting Noct’s gaze over his shoulder. Noctis’ eyes were so tender, yet so full of hurt and—like he’d said—deep _regret_. Feeling close to Noctis in this moment, Prompto placed a hand on his friend’s thigh, squeezing gently.

“Why?” he dared to ask, and Noctis shrugged.

“I should have kissed you,” he replied, simply, hoping the moonlight would disguise the redness that threatened to crawl into his cheeks. “I should have pulled you into my arms and told you that everything was going to be okay. If not when we were first rescued you, then at least when you told everyone about being an MT,” he went on, and felt Prompto tense at the last word. “Maybe things would have turned out better if I had let you know I was there for you, even if everything did go to hell after that.”

Prompto continued to lock gazes with Noctis, a tender look in his own eyes now that Noctis never wanted to look away from, but somehow, he managed. Prompto caressed Noctis’ thigh through the flannel fabric of his sleep pants, thinking to himself how vulnerable Noctis must have felt delivering those words. It had been such a sincere confession, and he wasn’t sure the younger Noct he used to know would have had the courage to admit all of that, especially when he used to have trouble with a simple ‘_I love you_.’

Everything Prompto had once wanted from Noctis seemed to be out on display now. Whether he wanted apologies or words of devotion, he could have them. If he wanted to hear all the ‘_I love you_’’s in the world, he could probably just ask and receive. He wondered what their relationship would be like now that they were adults, now that confidence and maturity were on both their sides. He wanted to know. Oh, how badly he wanted to know.

Before he could think of a way to respond to Noctis’ words, he felt a pair of lips on the back of his bare shoulder. He turned his head ever so slightly, not wanting to scare Noctis away, as those lips were so light and uncertain, they were just barely touching his skin. He waited, still and silent, to see what Noctis would do next, whether he would continue or retreat. When Noctis seemed unsure of which direction to take, Prompto squeezed his thigh again, assuring him that this was okay. Lips met the back of his shoulder again, this time with more pressure, and Prompto let out a contented sigh as those kisses continued—short and sweet, but full of meaning.

“Can I make up for it now?” Noctis asked, referring back to that last night in Zegnautus, when he felt he’d so brutally abandoned Prompto. The question was not met with words, but rather a deeper tilt of Prompto’s head as he turned toward Noctis.

His breath warmed Noctis’ chin as he exhaled, and Noctis feasted his eyes on the sight of Prompto’s half-lidded gaze and parted lips. With a quick meeting of their eyes for confirmation, Prompto let his lids fall completely closed. Both moved to close the distance, lips meeting in a gentle caress that was heated with the slightest hint of desperation. Noctis was the first to pull away, knowing that the Prompto that had been pushing him away for eight months was still buried in there somewhere.

“I take that as a yes?” he murmured, eyes half-lidded, faces just inches apart so that breaths continued to intermix. Prompto shushed him quietly, and reached a hand back to grip Noctis’ stubbled jaw, guiding him back towards his own.

They kissed with a bit more fervour, each nip and peck feeling extraordinarily good after such a long time apart. This time, Prompto broke the contact, but not without giving Noctis a small smile as they parted.

“What was that nightmare about again?” he teased, effectively ending the mood, and Noctis tightened the arm around his waist, giving him a quick embrace and one last peck on the shoulder before he stood up.

“You gonna be okay now?”

“Yeah,” Prompto assured him, reaching for the sheets that were still tangled around his legs, and attempting to straighten them out. Noctis returned to his own bed, and got under the covers. He lay on his back, but after a moment, turned to Prompto again.

“Hey, if you need anything at all—”

“I know. Thanks, Noct,” Prompto smiled, and Noctis smiled in return, feeling content in knowing that Prompto trusted him enough to ask for help.

They both rolled onto their sides, facing away from each other as they tried to calm down and let the recently shared kisses settle in their heads. Prompto couldn’t help feeling elated, because giving in and being with Noctis had felt so unbelievably amazing, but there was this feeling of guilt that had choked the mood, making him end the advances. He owed it to Noct to let him know what he was getting into. He deserved to know that this wouldn’t last forever.

But if he told him now, and he was fine with it, then did that mean they could continue down this road? Or was that selfish? Should he be pushing Noctis to find someone new instead of allowing himself this indulgence?

He didn’t know the answer to any of these questions, but he knew where they began; he had to tell Noctis first. It was best to just get it over with. Then they could continue however they saw fit, right? They could decide whether it was best to stay together or travel their own paths, right?

“Hey, Noct?” Prompto asked, rolling over with determination, his heart thudding with the nervous anticipation of finally telling his friend this awful secret.

He was actually disappointed when he only heard a soft snore in response, and he closed his eyes in defeat. He’d missed his chance, for tonight, anyway. He wasn’t about to wake him only to deliver bad news. He would let him enjoy tonight for whatever it was, even if it was just little kisses of comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone catch that Noct chose the peach-flavoured gelato, after the mention of Prompto smelling like peaches in Chapter 2? Just wanted to throw that adorable hint of Promptis in there :D Thanks for reading, and I hope you're all continuing to enjoy the story!


	6. Warmer Waters

The meeting with the secretary the next day was fairly uneventful, with Claustra questioning why the men had come at all, when Prompto had just been there and had left on good terms. Noctis briefed her on the threats he’d been receiving and told her he sincerely hoped Altissia did not hold any grudges with him, for he was willing to send them whatever they needed. Claustra promised to keep an eye out for any suspicious or hostile behaviour pertaining to Lucis or its king, and after making a call to Ignis for provisions—during which time she offered products to Noctis which were exclusive to Accordo—the two left in silence.

“Maybe this was a stupid idea. I don’t feel like we’re accomplishing anything,” Noctis sighed, feeling defeated as they wandered the streets of Altissia. Prompto felt his tension as he walked alongside him. The people of Galahd had been so much easier to help out, as poverty had been visible and obvious. Here, it was hard to spot the homeless or the less fortunate, as the section of the city they currently explored looked just as it always had—lively, and bright, and whole.

“At least we’re trying, right?” Prompto reminded him, with a compassionate smile. “And you’re generously sending necessities to other places when Lucis is just getting back on its feet, too. So, don’t think you’re not doing a good job, okay? Because you are.”

Noctis met Prompto’s eyes to confirm the sincerity behind that statement. It was a boost of confidence that he’d been needing for a while now, and he was grateful for it, even if Prompto was perhaps a little biased. Noctis gave him a warm, gracious smile.

“Thanks,” he said, offering Prompto a hand as they reached the gondola, and helping him step inside, like a true gentleman. Noctis followed after him, taking a seat beside him a few feet away from the gondolier, so that they may have a little privacy during their conversation.

Prompto watched the beautiful scenery as they floated along, taking in the sights of the housetops, glimpses of bright green foliage, and the array of distant waterfalls. He intentionally looked towards Noctis’ side of the view so that he might also catch any sign of him wanting to talk, suspecting Noct might not hold back if he felt his gaze on him. Eventually, he did open his mouth.

“I’ve actually been struggling for a while with this whole king thing. After you left on that mission with the glaives... I’ll admit, I was kind of lost.”

Prompto watched him, gently coaxing him to go on with a tiny nod and slight concern in his eyes as he listened. Noctis folded his hands in his lap and stared down at them, too ashamed to look his faithful glaive in the eye right now when he was openly admitting that he was a king with no clue what to do. But Prompto wasn’t merely a glaive, was he? They went back so much further than that.

“Don’t get me wrong. Ignis is good at advising me on all the legal stuff and royal duties, but as for how I feel... about the decisions I make, and the weight I feel from knowing I must do the right thing, but never knowing exactly what that is... It’s a lot of pressure, and I’ve missed being able to share those sorts of things with you.” Noctis’ voice was so weak, but so honest. Prompto pondered that, and hummed softly, almost laughing.

“The Noct I knew was never much for talking about his feelings. He would probably just whine and rant,” Prompto teased.

“And that might have been all I needed this time, too. I just...” Noctis curled his lower lip inside his mouth, looking like it actually pained him to let his guard down. When he brought his eyes up to meet Prompto’s, they were soft, teary even, and that expression Prompto brought back yet again to their last night at the campfire together when he’d told his Crownsguard that they were ‘the best’.

“I miss my confidant,” Noctis admitted, eyes blinking emotionally as he gave Prompto a weak smile. “And maybe that’s selfish after you probably had to deal with ten years of feeling that way, but...”

Prompto’s expression softened, his brows creasing upward in worry and regret. Noctis looked unsure of whether his assumption was true, but Prompto was quick to assure him that it was. He reached out for Noctis’ shoulder, gripping tenderly, letting him know that he was familiar with that feeling of pure loneliness.

“Noct… I’m sorry. I never meant to abandon you. I didn’t realize you needed me like that,” he said, honestly.

“You’re an idiot. I’ll always need you,” Noct half-scoffed, half-sniffled, but when he turned his head away, he was wearing a small, broken smile.

That comment caused a twinge in Prompto’s heart, but he tried to ignore it, as it hurt far too much to dwell on its implications. He wanted to reply to Noctis with the same words, wanted to tell him he would always need him too, but he knew that that would only draw him closer. After the kisses they had shared the night before, he was leery of enticing him further when he still had such a big confession to make—a confession that loomed over him like the shadow of an Iron Giant, so big and menacing.

“So, I’m sorry if I’ve been too clingy with you. I’ve just… been really lonesome since I came back. Being in the crystal was the loneliest I’ve ever felt. It was cold, and filled with glimpses of people that I could never reach. My parents, my friends… When I came back, everything was so complicated with the kingdom, and readjusting to life in the Citadel, and all I wanted was to feel warm and safe, and you… You were always so good at giving me that. At just making me feel safe and loved.”

Prompto tried to swallow past the lump in his throat.

“So were you,” he said, smiling weakly.

The gondola arrived at Listro Park North Station, and they clambered out of the gondola. Noctis skillfully tipped the gondolier with a handshake, and they continued into the next part of town. They ascended one of the white, stone staircases to reach a wide opening on the upper level, where the grand sculpture of rock and metal cords in the shape of the Tidemother still stood perfectly intact. It was ironic, Noctis thought, that the actual Tidemother—the great Leviathan—had been the one to leave Altissia in such ruin all those years ago, when its statue remained in perfect condition even today.

Prompto quickly caught the look of unease on Noctis’ face, and when they came to one of the stone benches nearby, he waved a hand, motioning for them both to take a load off. Prompto had sort of hoped that arriving at the North Station would bring about the end of their conversation, but Noctis looked like he still wanted to talk as he resumed the position he’d taken on the gondola—slumped over his folded hands, his gaze on the ground.

“I’m sorry to drag you down with all of this now. I think it’s just been piling up on me, and now that you’re here, it’s a relief, I guess?“ he said, seeming unsure of how to explain it.

“Well, that’s understandable. Sometimes you just need your best bud, right?” Prompto smiled, proving he did indeed know the feeling, but it was a timid look. His own hands laced together in front of him, but they were tight and uncomfortable, like he was trying to strangle each finger as they interlocked with one another.

“It’s hard to try and deal with things without each other when we’ve done that for so long,” Noctis mused, keeping his head low.

“Not only that, but we were both really lonely before we met. We didn’t have anyone to talk to about stuff like that. Once we realized we could lean on each other, we took advantage of that,” Prompto explained. “Or, at least... _I_ felt that way,” he added, shyly.

Noctis peeked over at his self-conscious expression, and hated that Prompto had room to doubt. He debated taking Prompto’s hand, and in the end, bravery beat out his fear of rejection. Prompto looked up curiously as Noctis tugged at his tightly locked fingers, and he let Noctis’ slip in between his own much more gently.

“Was I really gone so long that you forgot I’m crazy about you?” Noctis asked. Prompto would have thought it was a joke if he hadn’t said it so solemnly. Still, those words charged straight to his heart, and Prompto gave him a wide-eyed look of surprise before his rounded mouth fell into a smile instead.

“Alright, come on, Noct,” he chuckled, getting up from the bench, and two-handedly pulling his friend along with him. “Enough with the doom and gloom. Time to cheer you up!”

Noctis chuckled as he was dragged along.

“Where the hell are you taking me?” he laughed, enjoying every second of Prompto’s carefree grin, especially after the sorry state he’d seen him in last night. Prompto led him over to the giant sculpture, and nodded toward the chalkboard display that sat on the ground beside it.

“Time to make a wish for your kingdom. You know how it works,” Prompto sang.

Noctis lowered his gaze to the sign with a soft sigh. He remembered how it worked. Underneath the chalkboard was a basket of paper birds. He was to take one, write a wish on it, and throw it towards the sculpture. If it landed in the sea goddess’ mouth, his wish would be granted.

Prompto stared at him with expectant eyes and an open-mouthed smile as he took backwards steps, and tugged Noct with him toward the basket.

“Huh? Huh? Come on, what do ya say?” he playfully pestered, and Noctis rolled his eyes, reaching down into the basket. When he stood back up, he had an extra of each item, and offered them to Prompto. Prompto raised his brows, but Noctis simply pushed them further in his direction.

“Don’t think _you’re_ getting out of doing this,” he said, being rather matter-of-fact about it. Prompto simply shook his head and let out a chuckle, giving in and accepting one of the paper birds and a pen from Noctis.

It didn’t take long for Noctis to start writing, but Prompto hesitated, tapping the end of his pen against his lips as he thought. While wishing for a long life alongside Noctis would have been his first choice at wishes, he denied himself the chance of even trying for such a goal. The paper would probably go flying in the opposite direction. He pictured it heading straight for the Tidemother’s mouth, and performing a sharp swerve to avoid it as the universe realized such a wish just wasn’t possible.

Even if the bird landed in the statue’s mouth, Prompto wasn’t that firm a believer in miracles; miracles didn’t happen to people like him, people that didn’t have the Astrals or Oracles or powerful magics on their side. Miracles couldn’t reverse something that had been set in motion the day he was born—or rather, created.

In the end, he decided on a wish, and began scribbling. He could see Noctis watching him from over the top of his paper, but he hoped he wasn’t peeking at the words he’d written.

“You think this is a good idea? I mean, Leviathan and I don’t have a great history in Altissia,” Noctis said, holding the paper bird precariously in his hands, as if it might take flight and begin pecking at him as punishment for what he’d done to the city.

“Dude, that’s exactly why you _should _do this! Maybe it will help you put some things to rest, you know? And Leviathan did help you in the end, right?” Prompto reminded him. Noctis gave a half-hearted nod as he continued to stare at the paper in his hands.

Prompto released a breath of satisfaction as he finished writing down his wish, hoping that by leaving out the part about himself, it might have a chance of coming true. ‘_I wish for Noctis Lucis Caelum to have a long, peaceful reign as king.’_

“I really don’t know about this,” Noctis groaned, bringing Prompto’s attention abruptly back to him. He looked startled; Noctis wasn’t sure why.

Prompto quickly composed himself and shoved the paper behind his back as he marched toward Noctis, guiding his hand up into the air so that the bird was poised and ready to fly.

“All that guilt you have about Leviathan, and Luna, and everything? Just throw it away. Just like this bird, okay?” Prompto smiled, his eyes big and wide and blue as they stared up at Noctis. The man was bent over at the waist, his hand pushing Noctis’ up, his face pointed up at Noctis like a little kid.

Noctis loved the little things like this about Prompto, the way he could make something seem so simple. Maybe he just didn’t overthink the way most people did, but that childish innocence about him also relaxed the people around him. Noctis had missed that. He had missed so much about him.

“You make it sound so easy,” Noctis hummed, one corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile.

“Because it is. It’s okay to let go of that stuff, you know? If Altissia still held a grudge, they would have gotten rid of this statue long ago. Most of the people here already forgive you. It’s been ten years. It’s time to forgive yourself,” Prompto said.

There he was, like always, knowing the worries that lay deep in Noctis’ heart without him ever having to say them. With those words hitting home, Noctis gave a nod, and lifted his hand higher. He pulled back, and launched the paper bird forward, watching it soar effortlessly into the mouth.

“Yes!” he cheered, pumping a fist in the air. His chest felt featherlight now, like the image of throwing his troubles away—just as Prompto had said—had helped him to actually let go a little.

Prompto smiled at his actions that were very much reflections of a younger Noctis. He was sure Lucis had never had a king quite like Noct, and it was unlikely they ever would again. He was just too special. Maybe he was a little off the mark as far as formalities went, but Prompto believed that his experiences growing up in such a modern city, and exploring every inch of the world would make him a strong and insightful ruler.

“Alright, your turn.” There was a hand on Prompto’s wrist a second later, bringing him out of his thoughts of a future he might never see; he was thankful for the distraction, though he blinked wildly at the alluring look Noctis was giving him as he pulled him a little closer to the sculpture.

“Right,” Prompto agreed, numbly.

Noctis let go of his arm, and Prompto brought the little paper bird out in front of him, pulling it back and focusing on his aim. It was different than shooting a gun, but he hoped his trained eye would still help his accuracy. After a few flicks of his wrist for practice, he tossed the bird up and forward, watching as it drifted toward the mouth. It looked like it might miss the opening, but a small gust of wind guided it to the right, just enough for it to go inside.

“Yeah!” Noctis cheered, giving his friend a hard pat on the back. Prompto chuckled in disbelief, wishing now that he had at least _tried_ for his original wish if luck _was_ going to be on his side.

“Thought you were going to tell me that was a cheap shot,” Prompto half-chuckled. On a normal day, he probably would have, but Noctis was still trying to earn points with him.

If there was a even a tiny risk of hurting Prompto, he wasn’t going to take it, for the poor guy had seemed out of sorts for a while now. Today was the happiest Noctis had seen him in a long time, and he wasn’t about to ruin it.

“Hey, anyone who can control the breeze like that can hardly be called a cheap shot,” he smirked, and Prompto managed a half-smile. “Listen, I don’t know if you’d be interested in this, but I was wondering if you might want to have a nice evening out. Maybe dinner and a show? I mean, it doesn’t have to be a date or anything. No pressure,” Noctis rambled, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, and his arms stiff against his sides.

Prompto tried to hold his expression still, not wanting to show his emotions one way or the other. He tried to think fast, not wanting to appear hesitant, but still giving himself time to weigh out his options as best as he could. If nothing else, dinner might give him an opportunity to tell Noctis everything that needed to be said.

“That sounds nice,” he agreed, with a shy smile, and a small shrug of his shoulders. “Too bad we’re sharing a room. I could have freshened up and looked all spiffy for ya.”

“You want to part ways? I’ll explore town for a bit, and pick you up at 4:30?” Noctis smirked, and at first, Prompto wasn’t sure whether or not he was joking. It wasn’t until the smirk faded into a nervous smile, and the confidence left Noctis’ eyes that Prompto realized he was trying to be a true romantic.

“Wait, you mean it?” he gaped. Noctis shrugged, timidly, hands still firmly stuffed in his pockets.

“If you want to.”

Prompto couldn’t help but smile. Watching that awkward-looking former prince trying to ask him out like they were sixteen years old again warmed his heart more than he could describe.

“You are a total dork, and yeah, I totally want to,” Prompto grinned. Noctis remained shocked for a moment before he nodded, uncertainly at first, then happily.

“Great. I’ll see you later then,” Noct smiled, giving Prompto a touch on his shoulder as he passed by. Both tried to hide the excitement in their eyes, but neither succeeded.

Prompto couldn’t stop grinning as he began his walk back to the Leville, part of him so looking forward to a night out, in the most romantic city ever, with the love of his life. It would have been far too easy to pretend he didn’t have to tell Noctis the bad news, to ignore it altogether and give in to the old habits that he’d suspected they would fall into if left alone; it just felt so good to be together again, how could he not? But he’d promised himself he would not lead Noctis on any longer without warning him about what lay ahead. The future, as bright as it seemed from this vantage point, was already on a downhill slope.

* * *

Prompto blinked in surprise at the knock on the door, staring wide-eyed at himself in the bathroom mirror. He reached for his phone that was on the counter ahead, and smiled as he pressed the button to light it up. _4:30, right on the dot_. _Such a gentleman_. He spit his toothpaste out into the sink and dried the corners of his mouth with a towel before looking himself over one last time.

He was grateful to have packed at least a second collared dress shirt, as he’d suspected he might need them, depending on what leaders he and Noct might have to meet. The one he wore now was royal blue in colour, and buttoned up in the front. Iris had told him once that it brought out his eyes, and he thought that would probably play in his favour tonight if this did turn into a date, which, well, maybe Prompto was hoping for—not that he was letting himself get attached or anything.

He switched off the bathroom light and hurried for the door, pulling it open with a smile, which only grew when he saw Noctis standing there with a bouquet of flowers. They’d passed several vendor carts selling all kinds of gorgeous bouquets earlier that day, and apparently, even left to his own devices, Noctis had picked a dandy.

“Hey,” Prompto greeted.

“Good evening. For you, sir,” Noct announced, his mouth quirked into something between a confident smile and a playful smirk as he offered the flowers. Prompto grinned and accepted the cellophane-wrapped arrangement, running a thumb over the blue, yellow, pink, and purple lily petals.

“These are beautiful. Thank you,” he said, with a playful smile in return. “Please, come in. Make yourself at home.”

Noct smirked fully now, and entered the hotel room, continuing along with their little dating game. He took a seat in one of the comfy chairs, waiting while Prompto filled up the bathroom cup with water and set his flowers inside.

“This is a nice place you’ve got here,” Noct called out, and he heard Prompto stifle a laugh.

“Thank you. It’s not much, but I like it.” He returned from the bathroom, and stood before him. Noctis suddenly had trouble finding his breath.

Prompto looked stunning, his shorter hair styled to perfection, his slim but muscular form fitting beautifully into his dress shirt, which revealed a bit of skin up near his collar, the first couple of buttons having been left open. His bright, almond-shaped eyes looked especially gorgeous, and Noctis was almost a little jealous of how much more nicely Prompto had grown into his looks than he himself had. He would have been jealous if he weren’t also the lucky man who was getting to take this handsome guy out for the night.

“Something wrong?” Prompto asked, with a worried frown. Noctis shook his head with a low chuckle.

“Not at all. You ready to join me?” he asked, standing up and offering his companion an elbow. He looked at Prompto questioningly, as if giving him the option to reject his arm—and presumably the opportunity to make this a date—but caught up in this precious moment, Prompto linked their arms.

“It would be an honour, my dear Noctis,” he smiled.

* * *

They found a nice, quiet spot to eat next to the water, just across from Mahago’s. They chose one of the three tables, and took a seat in the red chairs, the umbrella above giving them some shelter from the late afternoon sun. A waitress quickly came to bring menus and drinks, and took their order before returning to the building on the right. The men watched the glowing orange lights of Mahago’s, and admired their round reflections on the still, shimmering water.

“So, about earlier, thanks for listening to that stuff I said. I really have been struggling, and I appreciate your support,” Noctis spoke up, hands folded on the table in front of him. Prompto watched him worriedly, head low and eyes pointed up toward him. There was so much guilt that came with the realization that Noctis had been suffering in ways of his own, and Prompto had been too wrapped up in his own problems to notice.

“It’s totally okay, Noct. You don’t have to thank me,” he assured him, knowing he certainly hadn’t been there for Noct enough lately to deserve such gratitude. Still, Noct continued on.

“Seriously, Prom. As far as rebuilding Lucis goes, and trying to figure out everything as king, I feel like I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I don’t know what I should be doing to make this world better, or how I can earn the support of those who are still against me. But knowing that you’re still on my side will make things easier, I think,” Noctis explained.

“Yeah?” Prompto asked.

“Well, I won’t be so distracted worrying about you, and the distance between us, and… Hey, you won’t mind if I ask you for advice every now and then, will you?” he asked, looking seriously unsure. Prompto hated seeing those eyes so sad and concerned; they were just too beautiful, especially with the orange lights sparkling within their grey-blue depths.

“Of course, not. Anytime you need me, Noct,” he said, and wished that that promise would be long-lasting, that he could always be there for Noctis when he needed him. It hurt knowing he’d been letting Noct down for the past eight months, and that the future didn’t look much better.

“And just so you know, even though I’ve been distant lately, I’ve always been on your side,” Prompto spoke up again, his hands knitting together anxiously in his lap. “I’ve just… got some things to tell you,” he shakily admitted. It was then that the waitress emerged from the restaurant again with plates in hand.

“Okay, we’ve got one lasagna and one Fettini di Cernia. Can I get you anything else before you dig in?” she asked, cheerfully. With a glance at each other, they silently agreed.

“I think we’re good. Thanks,” Noctis told her, with a charming smile.

“Alright, gentlemen. Enjoy,” she said, returning to the kitchen. Noctis stuck a fork into his steaming hot lasagna, spinning it so the noodles and cheese wove around it.

“Looks delicious.”

“Yeah, it does.” Prompto’s voice was weak and indifferent, his gaze unfocused as he stared at his own plate. He held his fork upright in his fist, which was resting on the table. Noct took a mouthful of food, and stared at him in confusion.

“You okay?”

“Of course.”

The response was automatic, and Prompto pushed himself back into action, digging into his own food, but at the moment, he could barely taste it. He was so close, but he wasn’t sure how to force himself to speak again, especially when Noctis seemed to have forgotten what he’d been saying before the waitress had come over. Should he bring it up again? He needed to, even though he would have preferred to keep his mouth shut. If he told him now, at least they would have the show to look forward to afterwards; that would act as a distraction, as well as an opportunity to smooth things over.

“Noct? Here’s the thing. While you were gone—“

“No way,” came a stoic female voice from behind. Both turned to the approaching figure, her silvery hair falling around her shoulders, and her steely eyes showing a distant fondness.

“If it isn’t the lovebirds.”

“Aranea!” Prompto squeaked, and Noctis grinned.

“Aranea! How’ve you been? What are you doing here?” he asked, popping up from his seat, and feeling like he should offer her a chair. He pulled one out for her, and she sat down, scooting it in against the table before either gentleman could do it for her.

“I should be asking you two that question. Why would a king leave his newly inherited kingdom so soon? What is it? Romantic getaway?” she asked, resting an elbow casually on the back of her chair.

Prompto gave her an unimpressed look, his eyes viciously telling her to cut it out, and play it cool. She’d had her suspicions about his feelings for Noctis back when they had been in Gralea together in the freezing cold cave, but apparently she’d come to her own conclusions since then.

“Well, technically, we are here on royal business,” Noctis said, chuckling softly. “But we gotta eat while we’re here, right?”

“Yeah, don’t mind if I do,” Aranea said, waving an arm in the air and catching the eye of one of the waitresses through the restaurant window.

Noctis and Prompto exchanged a frantic glance, both in disbelief of how the mood of their evening had drastically shifted as a waitress hurried over with a menu for Aranea. Noctis mouthed a ‘sorry’ to Prompto from across the table while Aranea was busy perusing dinner options, and Prompto gave him an understanding smile.

Both boys had their turns zoning out as Aranea chatted to them about how she’d started a mercenary business with Biggs and Wedge—just like she’d discussed with Noctis years ago. It was funny how the normally stoic Commodore could be so chatty when she felt like it. If Prompto didn’t know better, he would have thought this dinner interruption was payback for what a self-pitying doofus he’d been back in Gralea, when Aranea had been telling him to go back to his friends, and he’d been insisting that they didn’t want him.

He had never forgotten her words that day, how she’d said Noctis was so worried about him, he could barely speak; he’d still doubted that was true until the day Noctis rescued him from Zegnautus. If he had cared enough to go through that dreadful place, he cared for him deeply, even if Noct did feel bad for not doing or saying more at the time.

“So, how’s that kingdom coming along, Highness?” Aranea asked, gruffly, once her food had arrived. Noctis used his fork to stab one of the giant meatballs on his plate, and hesitated.

“Not sure. It’s coming along okay, I guess,” he replied, thinking of all the buildings that still needed work or complete reconstruction—even the sections of the Citadel that still needed repair. “Listen, during your travels, have you heard anything bad about me?”

“Not really. Maybe a nit-picky comment here or there, but nothing major. Why?”

“I got a threat letter that was delivered right to the Citadel this week. Someone on my council looked into it and found a few resistance groups popping up around Eos. I… didn’t take it too seriously until Prompto and I were attacked in Galahd,” Noctis explained, his eyes wandering to the spot on Prompto’s arm where the bullet mark had now completely faded. Prompto caught sight of his lingering, guilt-ridden gaze and he lowered his head, feeling so very loved—a feeling he’d missed horribly during his hunting days, but had fought not to let himself think about.

“That sucks,” Aranea sympathized, draping an arm around the back of her chair again while she picked at her meal. “Galahd’s been kind of rough around the edges ever since the invasion.”

“Prompto said a lot of people came together during those years of darkness, but I… I guess I was naive to think that bringing back the sunlight would make _everyone_ come together,” Noctis lamented. His sorrowful face made Prompto want to reach for his hand under the table, but he refrained. Aranea merely snorted.

“There’s always gonna be someone who disagrees with what you’re doing, or still holds a grudge. You just have to continue doing your thing, and keep yourself safe,” she said.

“Will you keep an eye out? You have our backs, right?” Prompto asked, with a wink and a grin that would have made Noctis jealous had they not kissed in the hotel the night before.

“As much as I hate to admit it, yeah, I do,” Aranea rolled her eyes, and Noctis chuckled softly.

“‘Preciate it,” he said.

“So, you’re the talk of the town in Altissia lately,” Aranea said, swiftly changing the subject before things got too mushy.

“Oh yeah?” Noct asked, raising a brow.

“Apparently, there’s supposed to be some grand ball happening where ‘eligible maidens’ show up in hopes that you’ll marry them.” Noctis coughed hard on his food.

“What?! Who told you that?!”

“It’s just heresay. My guess is Accordo wants a monarch, and this is their way to get one—by getting their claws into you.”

“This is news to me,” Noctis grumbled, wide-eyed. Prompto looked suddenly pale.

“I guess... with Tenebrae gone, and no surviving members of the Nox Fleuret family... Accordo is yet another nation without a leader,” he said, solemnly. Noctis set his fork down, as any mentions of Tenebrae or Nox Fleurets still seemed to tie his stomach in knots, thanks to old sentiments of dread and guilt.

“What, they want me to rule Accordo, too? I doubt _everyone _feels that way,” he scoffed. “At this point, I don’t think I have the trust of enough people to make that work.”

“Don’t sweat it. It’s only a rumour. And having a monarch is mostly a way of seeking feelings of safety right now,” Aranea said, waving him off. “You’ve been cleaning up the mess in Insomnia, so people are probably hoping you’ll do the same everywhere else.”

“So, those in Accordo think the only way to get me to take care of them is if I marry someone from Accordo?” Noct quizzed.

“More or less,” Aranea nodded.

“What about Niflheim?”

“They seem content to either govern themselves or become part of Lucis. They’re not looking to have your babies, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Aranea smirked, laughing inwardly to herself at the two disgusted faces before her.

“Well, if it’s true that that ball is really taking place, I have a feeling I’ll be hearing about it soon enough, if I’m not forced to attend,” Noctis sighed. Prompto was about as uneasy with that thought as Noctis was at the moment, and he changed the subject again for both their sakes.

“Anyone need a refill? I’m all out,” he said, holding up his empty water glass, and waving the waitress over. She refilled their glasses with a smile, and the three went back to their meal over more lighthearted conversation.

After a bit more chatter, Aranea paid for her supper and took off, then Noctis ordered some dessert for him and Prompto—to prolong the evening, if nothing else. The cheesecakes arrived within a few minutes.

“I’m sorry about Aranea. I didn’t realize she would sit down and stay like that,” Noct said, slicing a corner off of his cheesecake and running it through the strawberry sauce drizzled over his plate.

“It’s okay. I didn’t think she would, either,” Prompto half-smiled. “But it was kind of nice to see her. We don’t cross paths that often.”

“Yeah... But with all this talk of threats and ‘eligible maidens’, I’m feeling sort of sick to my stomach. It would be nice to just enjoy the rest of the trip with no more bad news, huh?” Noctis chuckled meekly, and Prompto didn’t quite now how to respond. It only got worse when he asked his next question.

“Now, what were you saying before Aranea got here? You said you had something to tell me?”

Prompto’s bite of cheesecake was swallowed down hard. He couldn’t believe Noctis had remembered that in the first place, but why did he have to bring it up right after making that comment about no more bad news? Prompto poked at his cheesecake, making several rows of fork holes in the creamy top layer. He could still tell Noctis now, could get this dreaded information out in the open, and be done with it, but they did still have the rest of the evening ahead of them. Did he really want to put a damper on the remainder of their ‘date’?

“I, uh…” Prompto started, then let out a chuckle that was soft, almost defeated-sounding. “I honestly don’t remember.” Noctis gave an amused smile, and they continued their dessert in silence, Prompto with a knife in his heart and Noctis enjoying his presence in ignorant bliss.

* * *

Prompto was relieved that the live theatre show had been a comedy. He was in desperate need of a laugh. Something he didn’t know he needed was Noctis’ hand brushing against his own in the darkness of the theatre, but it was comforting, and every now and then, those hands would intertwine.

Still, Prompto felt like a horrible person as his thoughts went through his predicament for at least the hundredth time. How could he keep leading Noctis on like this? How could he allow himself to get so close? Why couldn’t he get the words out and just tell him the damn truth? He knew why. Once he told Noctis, everything would change. This would be the beginning of the end, and maybe he was selfish, but being with Noctis this week had felt too good to let it die so soon.

“You cold?” Noctis asked, glancing over at Prompto whose face and body were both rather stiff as they took the long way back to the hotel. Prompto gazed upon him in confusion, then he realized how he must have looked with his hands shoved tightly into his pockets like that.

“Oh, n-no,” he stuttered. “I’m fine.” The comment was accompanied by a weak, unconvincing smile, and Noctis scooted in to walk closer beside him, hoping the contact of their arms would bring some warmth or comfort—whichever of the two he needed more.

Noctis wondered more than ever what Prompto had been keeping from him all this time, ever since he’d cried that night in the ballroom, since the first day he’d come back to Insomnia, or even when they’d kissed that night in the caravan. If he’d been carrying the secret way back then, it could have meant he’d been carrying it even long before that, and Noctis just hadn’t been around to know about it—being stuck in the crystal, and all. He seemed to be winning Prompto over, but still, he seemed so closed-off and distant, not like the Prompto who used to tackle him to the ground for a tickle fight, or snuggle up with him just for the heck of it.

They rounded a corner which lead them to a cubby-like area, shaded by a bridge above and a wall of the stairs to their right. Up ahead, they could make up a few dark forms, two huddled in an abandoned, tarp-covered gondola, and one leaning on the wall across the way, leaving the boys only a small space to squeeze through. If they had been looking for the poor or worse-off citizens of Altissia, they had probably found them, judging by their tattered hoodies and dirtied pants. The way they muttered and snickered under the breath as they approached, however, didn’t make Noctis nor Prompto feel comfortable in offering their aid. In fact, the unsettling stares of the hooded men made the pair put a bit more distance between themselves as they walked, before they became victims of a hate crime.

One glance at the right wall beside him, and Noctis knew they were in danger. The Lucian king’s emblem was graffitied onto the stone, and the skeletal face—which used to scare Noctis as a child, and had grown only slightly less eerie over the years—had red paint splattered across its eyes and smeared across its mouth. The entire emblem was marred with red and black streaks, clearly a result of hate and anger, and Noctis almost turned and fled at the sight of it. Trying to remain calm, he subtly nudged Prompto with his elbow, which effectively got him to notice the graffiti. Prompto swallowed hard, hoping it would rid him of his fear.

“Is that him?” They heard one of the men whisper.

“Looks like him. Just the man we wanted to see,” said another, with a tone to his hushed voice that made Noctis uneasy. The two figures in the gondola stood up, and stepped onto the land beside them, and Noctis led the way towards the narrow opening—two men on one side of the street, and one on the other.

“Excuse us,” Noctis quietly uttered, head low as he tried to pass by. A hand on his chest stopped him from doing so, so fast that Prompto bumped into his back. Both stumbled backwards, stunned and uneasy.

“What’s the rush, Your Majesty? Rumours said you were here to visit our beautiful city of Altissia,” said the man who’d held Noctis back. He continued to stand in front of him, hands waving out to the sides as he spoke; it looked like a mere gesture to accompany his words, but it was also preventing Noctis from pushing past him.

Noctis knew he could break through if he really wanted to. He could warp past him so fast that the guy would be on the ground with his world spinning, but he wasn’t here to hurt anyone, or to cause a scene in the streets; if he did, everyone would hear about it, and he would only further anger those who were already against him. He could see the headlines now: _Lucian King harms innocent Altissian civilian. _Fighting these guys wasn’t worth the risk.

Can I help you gentlemen with something?” Noctis inquired, quietly, while trying to maintain his confidence. The man on the right side of the street shoved Noctis hard into the one across from him, who caught and held him firmly in place. The man who had been blocking their path moved in to repeatedly pound a hard fist against Noctis’ back.

“That’s for my wife, who was killed by Leviathan!” he shouted. “That’s for my buddy’s daughter who was killed in the fall of Insomnia! You think your friggin’ dad could have warned everyone else about the treaty signing? No, he was only worried about his pathetic son!”

Noctis closed his eyes, taking the beating in stride. Maybe all this anger was what he’d felt he deserved all this time; it was his punishment for everything he and his father had done wrong.

“You were supposed to give your life to bring back the sunlight—the ultimate sacrifice that might have earned you some redemption, but no. You couldn’t even get that right. You’re still here, and we all just have to wait until you screw up again! Don’t know why Claustra trusts you!”

_Don’t fight back. It will only make things worse, _Noctis thought to himself, but Prompto was not in sync with those thoughts. Noctis saw a flash of blue, and the man who had been beating him fell to the ground. The one restraining him immediately let him go, and Noctis stumbled back enough to see Prompto with his arms fully outstretched and a gun in each hand, pointed at the two men on their respective sides of the alley.

“You have three seconds to let us pass,” Prompto announced, his features pushed into the fiercest scowl Noctis had ever seen him give. The guy on the ground wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and laughed menacingly, though from the strain of his voice, he was clearly still in pain.

“_You_ can’t hurt us. Do you know how bad it would look for a king and his bodyguard to beat up civilians? Your whole life would be destroyed in an instant.”

The truth of those words hit Prompto, and uncertainty flickered in his eyes, his arms sagging slightly. The man had a point. He had to protect Noctis, of course, but maybe in this case, that didn’t mean with physical strength. Still, he brought his arms back to their former height, holding them stiffly.

“_You _shouldn’t show such disrespect to the man who brought back the sunlight. He’s the only reason you’re even able to live in Altissia again,” Prompto said, sternly, the fire returning to his eyes.

“He’s also the reason why the world fell apart. King Regis protected him before his people, but when daemons took over, precious little prince Noctis just disappeared off the face of the earth. Some leader,” the guy on the right spat, quite literally on the ground.

“Noctis didn’t make the world fall apart. The _war_ did that,” Prompto corrected through gritted teeth.

Noctis wanted to shut down his mind so his attackers’ words couldn’t penetrate his soul, but they had already reached his heart, and that was enough to make him want to crawl back into the crystal and never come out. After that long journey that he, Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis had taken… After all those hunts they had done, all the broken cars they had fixed, and the good deeds they had done along the way… It felt like it didn’t even matter. The world would never know the extent of what they’d done. His father had been viewed as a traitor to his people, and now, he was, too.

“Part of being a leader is knowing and accepting that not everyone is going to agree with what you do. That doesn’t mean you just give up, and stop trying to do what good you can,” Noctis announced, and bravely stepped forward.

The man on the ground reached for Noctis’ leg, intending to yank him to the ground, but Noctis summoned his blade in a flash of blue. Before it could even fully corporealize, the man was scooting sideways out of the way, legs kicking helplessly. The men on either side of the street moved to tackle him, but Prompto aimed at their heads, and they backed off, allowing Prompto to cautiously ease past them. Noctis continued toward the stairs, and Prompto followed him, backing up with his guns at the ready until he could safely turn and ascend the stairs with his friend.

Noctis was practically trotting as they made it to the upper level, his face twisted into some horrified look that he didn’t want Prompto to see; it was filled with too much pain and guilt and hurt.

“Noct! Noct, slow down, will ya? They’re not going to follow us up here. It’s too crowded,” Prompto called out, but Noctis refused to slow his pace. Prompto had to run a few steps to catch up with him, and a hand on his shoulder finally brought the king to a halt.

“Noct, please,” Prompto begged, but as Noctis turned to him, he realized why he’d been beelining it out of there so quickly. His eyes were shimmering with tears that he was struggling hard to hold back. The tight grip Prompto had on his shoulder loosened, his fingers moving to caress him instead.

“D-did they hurt you?” he asked with gentle eyes, suddenly wondering how many bruises were covering Noctis’ back. He couldn’t help but picture them—blues and purples and yellows blotting the spaces between his muscular shoulders, or along the scars of his once injured spine.

“Can we just hurry back to the hotel?” Noctis asked, weakly, and Prompto gave a quick nod, his features twitching with worry.

“Of course, buddy. Let’s go,” he agreed, guiding Noctis back to the route they’d been on, his hand never leaving his back as they walked to their destination.

* * *

“Hey, they had some ice downstairs,” Prompto announced, softly, as he opened the door to their hotel room. He held the plastic bag of icecubes up for Noctis to see before he stepped inside and locked the door behind him, wanting to make sure they didn’t have any unwanted intruders tonight.

Noctis acknowledged him with a nod from where he sat cross-legged on the bed, but couldn’t manage a word, nor a smile. His head was hung low, and he rubbed an arm to distract himself from his emotions, but it was working rather poorly. Prompto strode confidently into the room and took a seat on the edge of the bed in front of Noctis.

“Here,” he offered, lifting the bag of ice off of his lap just slightly. Noctis reluctantly reached for the hem of his dark, grey t-shirt and pulled it over his head. He took the bag from Prompto, then sheepishly realized he could hardly reach his back on his own. Prompto chuckled softly as his friend retracted his hand from around his back, and looked to him for aid.

“I’ll get it,” Prompto smiled, tenderly.

He got up from the bed first, and went into the bathroom to find a facecloth to wrap the ice in, not wanting to hurt Noctis more with the harsh sting of the cold ice against his bare skin. He returned to the bed, taking a seat behind Noctis this time, and scooping a couple of cubes into the cloth. Gently, he pressed the ice to his back, which earned a sharp hiss from Noctis before a contented sigh followed.

“He got you pretty good, huh?” Prompto asked, studying the bruises that had not been too far off from what he’d imagined.

He had been terribly worried when he’d seen Noctis’ tears, afraid that the attack might have flared up some old wounds that Noctis had had since he and his caretaker had been attacked years ago. Prompto remembered his young friend coming to school in a wheelchair, and Noctis had told him years later that his spine had been injured, which also led to numbness down one leg. After that, Prompto had always kept an eye out whenever they had been navigating rough terrain, as it seemed that leg had never perfectly recovered.

“Why didn’t you fight back?” Prompto felt he had to ask, when Noctis still said nothing.

“Like that guy said, I couldn’t hurt civilians. It would ruin everything, even if they do hate me,” he replied, lowly.

“But… that graffiti. That’s scary stuff, Noct. They don’t just hate you. They hate Lucis,” Prompto went on, voice higher in pitch than usual. He saw Noctis’ head drop.

“Stop, okay? I don’t want to talk about it.” His words came out in a breathy, tearful whisper, and Prompto immediately backed off.

“Okay,” he quietly replied. “I’m sorry.”

He felt Noctis suck in a few shaky breaths before he reached a hand back, and Prompto thought he was searching for his own until he guided the cloth to another bruised spot. He obeyed Noctis’ direction, and settled the ice in the new spot, hoping to lessen the ache.

Prompto wondered how they had ended up in a strikingly similar situation as they had the night before—only with their positions reversed, and a different cause for their distress. Here he was, sitting behind Noct and comforting him, just hoping that Noctis might lean back into his touch, and open up to him with whatever was plaguing his mind. He wanted so badly to feel Noct’s back against his chest, for his head to fall in against his neck, and for hands to find each other, but he could tell Noct wasn’t quite ready. After all the abuse that had been thrown at him tonight, he didn’t feel he could let his guard down without it being a sign of weakness.

“I guess, you can never really know how or when people are going to retaliate. Those men, at least, didn’t hold back in telling me _why_,” Noctis eventually spoke up, the break in silence startling Prompto slightly. He nodded, and skimmed a thumb over Noct’s back where he held the cloth, hoping the small bit of contact would let him know that he was listening.

“I hate feeling like a failure, like I abandoned my people when I was stuck in the crystal. Even before that, I couldn’t help the citizens of Altissia, or Insomnia, or anyone.” His voice grew in intensity with each sentence, but there was a quaver there that made Prompto aware of how much he was suffering. He was still on the verge of tears, and it showed.

“You were just a kid, Noct. I know we felt like we knew what we were doing when we were twenty years old, but we didn’t. We were still trying to figure it out,” Prompto assured him. His free hand had slipped atop Noct’s thigh at some point while he’d been talking, and Noctis watched it intently as it brushed gently back and forth.

“You don’t get it, Prompto,” he whispered, meekly. “In so many ways, I still feel like I’m twenty years old.”

He turned his head slowly towards Prompto, who stared at him with shock in his eyes, his lips parted slightly in surprise, but he understood. The crystal had stolen those experiences he’d been meant to have between ages twenty and thirty, experiences that would have helped him grow up and better understand the world.

“In some ways, I feel like I did mature some in the crystal. I feel like I was bombarded with thoughts of past kings the whole time I was in there, and feel like I can see the bigger picture of the world, but… I didn’t get to actually grow up. It’s like some major parts of my life are missing, and I didn’t get to experience or learn from them,” Noctis explained. He shivered as he finished speaking, and on the off-chance that it was due to the ice on his back, Prompto set the cloth aside for the time being.

“I wish I knew how to help,” Prompto murmured after a few long seconds of silence.

Noctis said nothing, but as his shoulders began to shake with sobs that he was just barely suppressing, Prompto bravely leaned forward, his arms cautiously weaving around Noctis’ bare waist. Noctis’ hands immediately fell atop Prompto’s, holding them there and letting him know that this was okay. Prompto smiled ever so gently, and tilted his head so that he could press a few kisses to the tip of the scar on Noct’s back before resting his head on his shoulder.

In that moment, Prompto had forgotten himself. He had forgotten about his condition, about keeping his distance until he spilled his secrets, about what his future held and how it might ruin everything. In that moment, the only thing that mattered was that Noctis needed him, and that he did everything he could to be there for him.

“And I know that I used to badmouth my dad all the time. But I never, ever hated him the way these people did,” Noctis went on, voice trembling, as did his body, even in the comfort of Prompto’s arms. To hear those men say such horrible things about King Regis devastated Noctis. He had had his own doubts about whether his father had been right to protect him above all else, but to hear other people scorn him for it... It killed him.

“Is it even possible for someone to be a good king? I don’t know how,” he cried, and Prompto could feel himself tearing up at the sound of Noct’s shaking voice. He held Noctis a little tighter, nestling his face closer in against his neck so that his lips could press against the skin there as he spoke.

“I don’t know, Noct,” he breathed. “I don’t know. But I think we have to hold on to the belief that there are more people on your side than not, and that the world is filled with more good than bad. Don’t forget, you’ve welcomed a lot of people into Lucis who were in need of a home. A lot of people love you and are thankful for your leadership.”

He pulled back to analyze whether there was any change in Noct’s expression. At his side-on angle, he couldn’t really tell. The only indication he had to tell him whether his comfort was working was the way Noctis’ fingers sunk down to interlock with his own. Prompto brushed his thumbs over the backs of Noctis’ hands in response.

“I know this trip has been sort of surreal, seeing the proof that the world still isn’t at peace, even though the war is over, but give it time, okay? You’ll win people over. Once you get Lucis back in a good state, you’ll be able to do more for other places, too. And you’re doing a great job of that now, but I know you’ll feel better when you’re in a position where you can splurge a little more,” Prompto said.

Noctis’ sobs died down sometime while Prompto was talking, and the man turned his head back. Prompto raised his head curiously, and Noctis closed his eyes and leaned in, brushing their noses together. He wasn’t brave enough to seek any more affection than this, because he wasn’t sure he could handle the rejection tonight, but right now, it was enough.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” Noctis whispered, his eyes remaining closed. Prompto pressed a kiss to Noctis’ cheek, hoping that it might be enough to bring back the king’s smile, and it was, albeit only a small one.

“I’m glad, too,” Prompto promised, feeling so thankful that he had pushed himself to go on this voyage with Noctis, despite his anxieties about it.

“Am I a coward for wanting to go home now?”

“Of course not, Noct. You’re in definite danger out here. Like Ignis always said, there’s a time to fight, and a time to flee,” Prompto said, the man’s words staying with him to this day. Noctis tilted his head up a little higher to nestle his cheek against Prompto’s hair, and Prompto pressed another kiss to his neck.

“Thank you,” Noctis murmured.

A trickle of cold against Prompto’s thigh was enough to make him jump, and Noctis was startled as arms disappeared from around his waist. He turned around to see what was happening.

“Ahh, the ice bag is leaking,” Prompto squeaked, picking the thing up from its position beside him on the bed. It dripped mercilessly onto the sheets, and Prompto hopped up, cupping one hand beneath the bag to catch the droplets as he ran for the bathroom. Noctis stared after him and sighed. Why did they have to be interrupted? Why did something push them apart every time they got close?

Prompto returned a minute later, but Noctis was already up, bringing the ice-filled facecloth into the bathroom to avoid any further mishaps. They searched the drawers of the dresser and nightstands for a hair dryer, and Prompto dried the wet spot on the sheets while Noctis watched longingly from the doorway of the bathroom, arms folded. Part of him wished they could have just left the water there, so that the concept of them sharing a bed might have become a definite possibility.

“All dry! And now you’ve got a super warm, cozy bed to crawl into,” Prompto smiled, turning off the hair dryer and coiling up the cord before setting it back in the bathroom drawer. Noctis nodded, forcing what could barely be called a smile.

“Guess I should get ready before it gets cold, then.”

He returned to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and Prompto came to join him at the double-sink. Noctis stared at them in the giant mirror and wondered how they had gotten so old. Facial hair, age lines—it was strange to see them looking like this instead of the youthful spirits they used to be. He still wasn’t used to it. Even so, in this domestic setting, Noctis could easily picture them as a married couple. They were old enough—even mature enough, he supposed—and imagining that this was their shared bathroom, that this was their life together, made Noctis’ heart throb with desire.

Prompto caught him staring, and he gave a small, somewhat shy smile in return before spitting out his toothpaste and rinsing out the sink. He returned to the bedroom, and changed his clothes with his back to Noctis, while Noctis stole some more glances at his back and strong shoulders. He didn’t finish slowly brushing his teeth until Prompto was in bed, and his opportunity to stare was gone. It was clear he was still in love with Prompto—hopelessly so.

He finally headed for his own bed, and Prompto gave him a smile before he switched off the lamp. He curled into the spot that the hair dryer had left still slightly warm, and pulled the covers up to his neck, hands clutching the sheets.

“Prompto?” he asked through the darkness of the room.

“Yeah?”

Noctis hesitated, not quite sure what he should say. He wanted to ask if Prompto missed _them_, missed being a couple. He wanted to ask if he was the only one who felt like he was falling for his friend all over again, even though he’d never stopped loving him in the first place. He wanted to know if they could throw all of Prompto’s worries aside and just be together despite them.

“Thanks again for all you did tonight,” Noctis said, instead.

“It was no problem, buddy. Really,” Prompto assured him, never knowing how many other thoughts were swirling in Noctis’ head.

* * *

Deciding that being out on this voyage in a time of unrest really wasn’t the safest thing for the King of Lucis, they boarded their vessel early the next morning and headed for home. Once they had gotten back on solid land, Prompto offered to take the wheel, as Noctis hadn’t gotten a very restful sleep the night before.

He stole glances as Noctis dozed on and off in the passenger’s seat, feeling a bundle of emotions as they neared the end of their roadtrip. There was guilt, because he hadn’t yet told Noctis what he’d set out to say from the beginning, and fear because what Noctis had said at the restaurant in Altissia made him think he shouldn’t say anything at all. There were also feelings of longing, of missing Noctis even though they had been closer this past week than they had been in an entire decade, but he wanted more. He’d felt warmth and comfort in every touch, smile, and kiss, and part of him wanted so badly to give into temptation, and be whatever Noctis wanted him to be.

“You mind if we stop at Galdin on the way back? I just… want to see it again for myself,” Noctis said, at some point between naps. Prompto had agreed, knowing that Noctis probably still felt some connection to the place, after awakening from his crystal slumber in Angelgard, just off the coast of the Quay. It was quite the detour, but he didn’t mind taking it when it was something Noct felt he needed.

Umbra continued to sleep in the back seat of the car as they pulled up to the hill overlooking Galdin. They got out of the car and descended the slope, as the debris of the old resort and other structures left no room for parking down below. They passed the old refueling station—which had long since been destroyed—and headed along the seemingly endless stretch of sand, past where the old fishing shack used to be, further along the shore.

The beach was quiet, save for a few crickets and calm waves rolling in and out. Noctis remained near to Prompto as they stood on the sand, which overlooked the black sea. Beyond the damaged resort, they could still make out the silhouette of the Isle of Angelgard, shrouded in fog in the distance.

“It’s eerie,” Noctis said, voice low, and Prompto hummed in agreement. Noctis had thought he might feel his father’s guidance in a place like this, but he was disappointed to find there was nothing drawing him to that island—only something drawing him to the man beside him.

Prompto reached for his camera, drawing it up to his eye and snapping a few shots of the horizon. The dark grey sky was patterned with clouds, looking almost identical to how it had when Noctis had escaped the island. If he didn’t know any better, standing here now, and seeing these foreboding skies, he would have thought the sunlight had never come.

“It’s still beautiful, though,” Prompto quietly commented, taking in the sight of the waves and mountains through the lens of his camera.

Noctis turned his head to look at him, thinking to himself that the island wasn’t the only thing that had maintained its beauty. In the moonlight, Noct couldn’t so much see his tired features, but rather it brought out his more radiant ones—his blond hair which shimmered with various white golds, his eyes that contained so many hues of blues and violets.

Once Prompto was satisfied with a good amount of shots, he let go of his camera, allowing it to hang from the strap around his neck. Slowly, he turned his head toward Noctis, who was staring at him with admiration in his eyes, but rather than wearing a smile on his face, his brows were creased in… what was it? Concern? Sorrow?

“What’s wrong, Noct?”

“I’m sorry for being so forward, but… I wish that just for tonight, we could be together. Like we were that night at the caravan,” he said, and Prompto swallowed hard, the memories of that night bringing instant heat to his cheeks. “Prompto, this trip has been killing me. Being so close to you, but not being able to bring you any closer,” Noctis admitted, sounding desperate.

It took Prompto by slight surprise, as it was true Noctis was usually anything but forward—at least, he used to be a man of few words—but Prompto could see where that desperation was coming from; he himself had felt it, too, all along.

Visiting all the places that they had once been years ago—places they had previously eaten together, snapped pictures, or cuddled up in the warmth of a hotel bed. They all brought back memories, and Prompto was constantly reminded of how much he was missing Noctis. He may have tried to shut off his feelings after Noct had been lost to the crystal, he may have been trying to keep them turned off now, but never had he once stopped missing Noctis. His voice, his jokes, his touch… they were all pieces of him, and therefore also pieces of Prompto that had yet to be reattached.

“I know,” Prompto said, but his voice came out as barely more than a whimper. Courageously, he turned toward Noctis who did the same. Now that they were facing each other, they could both see the burning emotion in each other’s eyes. It wasn’t anger; maybe it was despair.

“I’m so sorry for putting you through this, Noct.” Prompto suddenly realized how quickly he was breathing, like he was on the verge of tears or sheer panic. He didn’t want either scenario; he only wanted to let Noctis escape this misery—and perhaps let himself do the same.

He thought of Noctis healing his arm in Galahd, of wishing on paper birds, and eating out in Altissia. He thought of nights in the hotel room, holding each other, soothing each other, kissing each other. They had been crossing lines all week; would one more line really matter? Had keeping himself from Noctis been foolish from the start? What if those worries had been all in his head? What if Noctis’ love for him was bigger than all their problems? Did that make it okay to give in?

“I-it doesn’t have to mean anything. No strings attached, I just… Er, no, forget I said anything,” Noctis said, stuffing his hands in his pockets when he realized how uncomfortable he’d made Prompto look.

“Noct?” Prompto started—slowly, hesitantly. He could feel Noctis’ full attention on him now, gazing at him sidelong. Despite how nerve wracking it was, he knew he needed to get this question out in the open.

“Would there _ever _be a reason why you wouldn’t want to be with me?”

The lines between Noctis’ brows were indicative of his confusion and concern. He felt like he was close to something, like if Prompto was asking this question, then he was considering giving in to whatever had been holding him back all this time.

“Of course, not,” Noctis replied, emphasizing each word.

“What if there was some noble out there somewhere that would be better suited for you?”

“I wouldn’t care.”

“And if I wasn’t as carefree as I used to be?”

“I would do whatever I could to make your worries go away,” Noctis vowed.

“What if I was sick?” Prompto had asked this question just as quickly and casually as the others, and he didn’t think Noctis caught on to how much he wanted to hear this answer, because his response was just as on cue as the first two.

“I would take you in sickness or in health. Prompto, what is going on?” Noctis asked, coming to stand in front of him, and interrupting his view of the ocean. From here, Prompto could see every worry line on his ally’s face. Noct took his hands in his own, thumbs grazing over them tenderly.

“Please, just talk to me,” Noctis pleaded. Prompto breathed in deeply, finding the best way to phrase his final question.

“What if there was a time where I had to step aside, and you had to rule on your own, or find someone else to rule at your side?”

Noctis paused at this, taking the time to analyze each piece of the question and come up with an answer.

“I would understand if you needed a break from the pressures. I would never stop you from leaving to pursue your own dreams. And I would rather rule for a short time with you by my side than spend a lifetime of peaceful reign with someone else.”

“Do you mean that? I mean, h-how can you say that so easily?” Prompto asked, his brows creased in utmost worry. The next thing he knew, there was a hand under his chin, and Noctis’ thumb guided his head up the slightest bit so that his nervous eyes met his confident ones.

“Because you’ve always been the one. I want you, even if it’s not forever,” Noctis promised him, with a serious, but heartfelt expression; worry was carved into his own features as well, as he feared Prompto would not believe him. The man lowered his head tearfully, and Noct wasn’t sure what kind of tears were on the way—happy or sad.

“I mean, I want it to be forever, but if forever is too much to ask from you, then… I’ll take whatever you _can _give. Whatever you _want _to give,” Noctis said, softly, his thumb brushing over Prompto’s matured jaw, and he watched as a weak smile formed just an inch away. Those words… that was all Prompto needed to know.

“Then, I… I want to give you tonight,” Prompto whispered, his hands reaching for Noctis. One clutched the front of his shirt while the other curled into the back of his hair, and he moved his body in close enough to press against Noctis’, filling them both with a sudden need. Noctis glanced down at the way their jeans brushed together, then his eyes flickered back up to meet Prompto’s.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” Prompto assured him, with a squeeze at the back of his neck. One more glance for confirmation, and lips were meeting amidst a flurry of hazy thoughts.

They undressed as quickly as possible, leaving their clothes on the shore, and wading into the water. It was warm, as the days of sunlight truly had returned and heated the ocean. Once they were out past their waists, they moved to entangle themselves in one another, Prompto resting himself on Noct’s lap with his legs around his waist, arms wrapping around each other’s backs.

Lips met hastily, greedily, tongues meeting fiercely as fingers danced along skin. Prompto raised himself up and slid back down, causing friction between them that made Noctis release a hoarse cry. The sound died inside Prompto’s mouth, and both began to move against each other, hands tracing over necks and spines and anything that felt good. The sounds of the waves barely masked the soft moans that escaped their mouths. It wasn’t long before pleasure overtook them, and Prompto tossed his head back with a final, desperate noise that had Noctis following after him, burying his head in the space Prompto had left for him between his jaw and collarbone.

Their movements slowed as they tried to catch their breath, then they fell deep into one another’s embrace, bodies melting as close together as they possibly could. Noctis lifted his head enough to press some lazy kisses to the side of Prompto’s neck, and Prompto sighed contentedly.

A reunion such as this should have been much more slow and patient, rediscovering each other’s bodies, taking in all the ways in which they had changed, and making sure to take into account all the things that used to make each other feel good. It probably should have happened in a more comfortable location—in the safety of Prompto’s bed, or the privacy of the king’s ensuite. It should have been driven by loving desire instead of urgent need, but it was enough—enough to still feel close, and to push away the loneliness, even if only for a little while.

“I missed you,” Noctis whispered, trailing a hand over Prompto’s face. He might as well have said ‘I love you.’

Prompto knew it would come to this, that nothing between them could ever _not _lead to romantic feelings, because they had always been there, and they weren’t going anywhere now. It was ingrained in them that they belonged together, and they did. Astrals knew they did because they had brought Noctis back to Prompto, even after he was supposed to have died.

“I missed you, too,” Prompto murmured back, his voice high-pitched and almost tearful, as he leaned in to capture Noctis’ lips.

_His Noctis_ was really here with him—the Noctis he had been forced to live without for the past ten years—and he couldn’t help but feel relieved, happy, overjoyed. There had been times during their ten years apart that Prompto had feared he wouldn’t even make it until Noctis awoke from his slumber—_if _he ever even awoke. There had even been times when Prompto had feared Noctis might awaken with no recollection of him or his friends, so to be here in this moment, drinking him in, drowning in him… It was more precious than he could even begin to describe.

Their kisses were slow now, so patient and tender. Prompto’s fingers tousled the hair at the back of Noctis’ neck, and Noctis revelled in his touch.

“But, this doesn’t necessarily mean…. I-I can’t promise that when we get back I won’t—” Prompto started, not wanting to leave Noctis with any false hopes, but Noctis gently shushed him with a soft finger on his lips.

“Let’s just have tonight,” he whispered, with a faint sadness in his eyes. He hoped the words would allow Prompto to let go and enjoy this for whatever it was.

His finger continued to trace patterns on Prompto’s top and bottom lips until they parted with a soft, warm breath, and Prompto leaned in, searching for Noctis’ lips. Noctis allowed the kiss to happen, his arms entangling Prompto’s back and waist like he might never let go, and in that moment, Prompto absolutely didn’t want him to.


	7. Lovers and Liars

They didn’t wander out of the waters until night had fully fallen, the darkness concealing them as they found their clothes and dressed themselves. The drive home was full of silence, as both thought about how good it had felt to be together, but also wondering what this meant for them now. Both wondered, but neither asked, figuring it was probably for the best to let the trip end on a high note, and bounce back to reality later.

Noctis parked the car in front of the Citadel, and a glaive immediately emerged to drive the car around back for them once they had gathered their belongings from the trunk. Umbra hopped out of the backseat as the glaive opened the door for him, and the dog trotted up the steps alongside Noctis and Prompto. The lobby was empty as they entered, and Noct turned to Prompto as they headed for the elevator.

“Feeling okay about being back?” Noctis asked, noticing that Prompto had grown paler since they had been in the car together.

“I guess so,” Prompto mumbled, as they reached the elevator, and Noctis hit the button to go up. He glanced at Prompto again, who was staring straight ahead at the closed doors. The elevator dinged, and they walked inside as it opened.

“Are you okay? With what we did?” Noctis asked, cautiously. Prompto slowly turned his head toward Noct, his heart fluttering anxiously.

“Yeah. I mean, we’ve done worse than _that_ before,” Prompto chuckled nervously, but the sound of that laughter didn’t put Noct at ease. He watched Prompto carefully as he stared ahead again, his knuckles completely white as he clutched his bag, which Noct knew from experience wasn’t heavy enough to cause that kind of strain on his hands.

“Not since I’ve been back. Not since I became king,” Noctis softly reminded him, his own gaze shying away from Prompto’s and heading for the floor instead. Prompto lowered his own head as he sighed.

“I guess it is a little different now, but... don’t think I didn’t enjoy myself,” Prompto said, before following it up with a mere whisper. “It was nice. Being with you like that.”

Those words were exactly what Noctis wanted to hear. While he also would have enjoyed three small words of devotion, these at least let him know that Prompto didn’t have regrets.

The elevator dinged for Prompto’s floor, and he gave Noctis a nod and small smile before hurrying out the doors.

“Let me walk you to your room,” Noctis offered, and before Prompto could protest, the doors were closing behind them.

The hallway seemed unbelievably long to Prompto, and when they finally reached his door, his hands were shaking as he scrambled for his keys. He managed to unlock the door with minimal fumbling as Noctis watched him with worry. Prompto let out a breath of relief as he pushed his way inside the room and set his bag down.

“Phew, home in one piece,” he uttered, and Noctis lingered uncomfortably in the doorway.

“Well, I guess this is it,” he shrugged, feeling Umbra wagging his tail impatiently at his side, like he was expecting something of his master. “Thanks for going with me.”

He took a step inside the room, just far enough so that he could reach out for Prompto’s shoulders.

“O-oh,” the younger stuttered as he was pulled in against his friend.

Just like at the Quay, Noctis’ touch seemed to make the rest of the world fall away, as if the magics at his fingertips had the ability to take away Prompto's fears and fill him with a warm sense of belonging. Prompto pushed any remaining worries aside and settled into that warmth, his arms finding their way around Noctis’ back to return the embrace. Noctis bravely gave Prompto a peck on the cheek as he pulled away, and eyes met. Prompto lowered his head, but his gaze remained pointed up at Noctis.

“Thank _you_. For bringing me along,” he said, eyes displaying hints of an invitation, as if he were hoping for something for which he was afraid to ask.

_ ‘Would there __ever_ _be a reason why you wouldn’t want to be with me?’  
  
‘__Of course, not.’  
  
‘What if I was sick?’  
  
‘I would take you in sickness or in health.’_

Prompto replayed their conversation in his head, and waited, hoping that Noctis would confirm for him once again that he’d meant every word of his promise, and that he wasn’t scared to pursue this road that might not be forever.  
  
Noctis stared into Prompto’s eyes uncertainly at first, taking in their emotions and then surveying the space between his parted lips. Once he felt sure that this was what Prompto wanted, he leaned in, and met those lips in a final, parting kiss. Hands met between their waists, fingers interlacing briefly before their owners stepped away, creating a distance too far to continue holding each other.  
  
“I should head upstairs. Do you… mind if I text you later?” Noctis inquired, and despite the serious mood, Prompto couldn’t help but release a small laugh.  
  
“You make it sound like you just took me out on our first date.”

“Well,” Noctis shrugged, timidly. “It does feel like we’re starting over.”  
  
Prompto supposed that was true. These past few months had been like the beginning of high school all over again—taking them right back to where they had started, when they were both desperately lonely, and not sure how to make a connection with one another.

“So… is it okay?” Noct asked, nervously, when Prompto seemed lost in thought.

“Of course,” Prompto nodded, sincerely. Noctis gave him a smile, and grabbed his bag from where he’d left it in the doorway, giving his thigh a loud pat to coax Umbra along.

“Goodnight, Prompto,” he said, softly, giving him one last genuine smile from the hallway, before he turned and headed for the elevator.  
  
Prompto held onto the doorframe, watching as he departed. His heart felt like it might break in two from being torn so hard in opposite directions. He was seriously at a loss when it came to what to do next, but he knew one thing for certain; spending even a second away from Noctis was going to hurt more than ever.

“Goodnight, Noct,” he whispered.

* * *

“So, how did it go?” Gladio asked the next morning. Ignis was perched on the very edge of the training room bench, and Gladio leisurely rested a foot atop it, draping an elbow casually over his knee.  
  
Noctis was in the centre of the room, swinging his sword at a training dummy. He had headed down here of his own volition this morning, needing to get rid of some of the pent up energy that had come from his adventures with Prompto that week.

“You mean the political part? Well, we got attacked twice,” Noct said, between swings, sounding far too matter-of-fact about it. Ignis scooted even further forward on the bench, his back straightening.

“I beg your pardon?”

“We got attacked. Why do you think we’re back so soon?” Noctis said, and when Ignis and Gladio’s eyes seemed to bulge out of their heads, he quickly continued to talk.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. Prompto made sure I didn’t get hurt,” he assured them, nonchalantly. Gladio turned towards Ignis, who blindly looked back at him after hearing Gladio’s movements. The Shield shook his head after a minute, and let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m afraid we’re gonna need to know a little more than that. Who the hell attacked you?” he asked, sounding surprisingly patient. Noctis shrugged.

“Dunno. Some random gunman in Galahd, and a trio of anti-Lucian thugs in Altissia. Prompto got a picture of the gunman so we can try to identify him. But like I said, we’re fine.”

“This doesn’t bode well. If you ran into such individuals on such a short voyage, then I fear we might have a greater resistance on our hands than we’d imagined,” Ignis lamented, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, though it didn’t help to hide the worry lines between his brows.

“Or we just had some unlucky odds. Relax. Everything’ll be fine,” Noctis said, airily, turning to his friends to give them a brief smile before returning his attention to the training dummy.

“Why aren’t you the least bit worried?” Gladio asked, folding his arms with a frown.

“I mean, I was at first, but we’ll handle it. I’ll get things under control here in Lucis, and start reaching out to others as soon as I can. No big deal. I doubt anyone has plans, nor the means, to attack the Citadel like Niflheim did all those years ago,” Noctis said.  
  
Gladio and Ignis both stiffened at the way he had said those words so casually. It was unlike him to talk about the fall of Insomnia like there was no lingering pain attached. He was too carefree and relaxed in this moment, even for their lazy old Noct.

“So, Ignis?” Noct started, leaving the straw-filled dummy swaying back and forth with a never-faltering smile on its face as he headed for the bench. He grabbed a towel and dabbed his forehead with it before holding it in his hands, elbows resting on his knees as he sat. “You remember years ago when I asked you what the rules were regarding royal weddings?”

Ignis tried to steady his expression, to not let it show anything but utter stoicism until he knew exactly what Noct was getting at. He adjusted his glasses again as a distraction before answering.

“Yes, I remember.”

“You had told me that I was expected to marry a princess and produce an heir, and that if I were to marry someone of the same sex, it would only work in Niflheim’s favour because the line of Lucis would effectively end,” Noctis said, still not sounding perturbed about any of this information. Gladio watched Ignis intently as he nodded in response.

“That is correct.”

“But now that Niflheim is out of the picture, and now that I’m king, am I… Am I free to choose a mate?” This was the first time during the conversation that he faltered, fearing the answer would be something he wouldn’t like. In hindsight, he probably should have asked far before he’d left for Galahd with Prompto, so that he wouldn’t have sought out something he might not be permitted to have.

“Well, you _are _king, but the rules of the Lucian royal family date back centuries. I would have to look into specific details about adjusting these rules to your liking. And there would be issues, such as producing an heir, that could become… problematic,” Ignis said, honestly, though he continued to mull it over.

“Well... could you look into it for me?” Noct queried.

Gladio took his foot off the bench and stalked over to Noctis, who looked up at him with a slightly nervous gaze, that giant shadow enough to make anyone a little anxious. Gladio’s golden eyes stared down at him with suspicion, but his lips were twisted into a tiny smirk.

“What’s going on, Noct?” he quizzed, making the king lower his head. Noctis curled his fingers into the towel he was holding, and twisted it around gently as he pondered the best way to convey his thoughts.

“Things are… kind of happening again with Prompto,” he announced, with an almost melodic tone to his voice. Even with his head low, Gladio could see his shy smile.

“You had sex with him, didn’t you?” Gladio asked, his smirk growing, and Noctis fidgeted. He had always hated how much amusement his Shield got out of teasing him.

“Sort of,” he mumbled, face reddening.

“Is that why you won’t take your shirt off?” Gladio grinned, and Noctis glanced down at his sweat-soaked t-shirt.  
  
It was normal for him not to take it off in the training room when Gladio was present—because he _had muscle_, _you just couldn’t see it_, and he didn’t need to be reminded of that every second in the training room, thank you very much. But honestly, today he wasn’t hiding love marks so much as he was hiding the bruises he’d gotten in Altissia.

“Gladio, no need to embarrass him. What the king does on his own time is no business of ours,” Ignis said, though Noctis could swear there was a twitch playing on the corners of his mouth; he hoped it was nothing worse than a sign of amusement.

“That’s new,” Noctis rolled his eyes. “Back when I was a prince, you certainly had lots to say about my business.”

“Alright, fine, Noct. What I mean is, congratulations,” Gladio said, giving up the joke and slapping a giant hand against the king’s back. Jovially, he sat down beside him. “You finally got Prompto to open up to you. Good job.”

“Hey, don’t praise me up too much. It’s not official yet, and I don’t want to jinx it,” Noctis said, the truth of that statement stinging a little. Even when Noct had walked him back to his room the night before, the way Prompto had looked at him had made him feel like they were walking on glass. “But I’m hoping it’s all going to work out.”

“Alright, lover boy. On your feet. You’ve got all kinds of nervous energy going on now, and it’s time to get it out of your system,” Gladio announced, heading for the centre of the room and moving the training dummy aside. He took its place and summoned his greatsword from Noct’s magics as Noct headed for the ring again.

“Okay, okay. But I’ll warn ya. This nervous energy’s been working in my favour.”  
  
Ignis continued to watch the two spar, his mind running through the consequences of this rapport between Noctis and Prompto becoming more than a casual affair. Sure, it was no business of theirs what the king did on his own time, but when common and royal mixed, when a king refused to marry a queen… that’s when problems were due to arise.

* * *

_Noctis Lucis Caelum: G’morning, handsome. Hope you slept well._

_Prompto Argentum: I did, actually. Like a log. How ‘bout you?_

_Noctis Lucis Caelum: Pretty well. Think I was still on a high after the trip. Want to meet up later for coffee?_

_Prompto Argentum: A guy like you has time for coffee?_

_Noctis Lucis Caelum: For you, I do. Meet me in my quarters?_

_Prompto Argentum: ...As long as you don’t try to seduce me ;)_

_Noctis Lucis Caelum: Strictly business. Promise._

_Prompto Argentum: ‘Kay. See you soon._

Prompto scrolled back through the messages as he made his way to Noctis’ room, a mix of nervous and excited anxiety making his heart feel like it might float out of his chest. His brain wanted to demand what he was getting himself into, but he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t want to be with Noctis. He couldn’t pretend that he didn’t still feel drawn to the man who had given him so much, who had blessed him with his love and trust and friendship.

The butterflies in his stomach only confirmed those feelings as he peeked past the open door of Noct’s room to see him looking as stunning as ever as he gussied himself up in the stand-up mirror, which stood just alongside his bed. A soft chuckle from Prompto made Noct aware of his visitor, and he shot Prompto an embarrassed glance, letting his hand fall from where he’d been fixing his long bangs.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah, but before we do…” Prompto started, giving Noct a sly smirk as he waltzed into the room with his hands behind his back. Noctis quirked a brow, amused curiosity perking up the corners of his mouth.

“Ta-da! A present for you, Your Majesty,” Prompto sang, presenting his friend with a large, flat something-or-other wrapped in white tissue paper.

“‘The hell is this?” Noct smirked back, accepting the gift and tilting his head as he looked it over suspiciously. The mystery object had some weight to it, and Noctis was careful to keep a good grasp on it as he tore off the paper. Prompto watched his eyes light up and his smile grow as he unveiled the present, letting the tissue fall to the floor without a second thought.

“No way! A fish plate? This is awesome!” he laughed, scanning the fish-shaped ceramic platter, its white form glistening as the light caught it. Its lack of scuffs and scratches indicated that the thing was brand new, and that Prompto had taken good care of it since he’d bought it.

“I’m glad you like it,” he smiled, sincerely, the joy on his friend’s face bringing warmth to his heart. It was a familiar expression, like when Prompto used to surprise him with the most thoughtful birthday gifts, or show up at his work just to give him a kiss and brighten his day.

“Hell, yeah, I do! Where did you get this?” Noctis laughed, still taking in the sight of the enormous plate, and loving that it would make any angler extremely jealous.

“I spotted it in the Lestallum market when I was there with the glaives. I meant to give it to you when I got back, but it slipped my mind.”  
  
Noctis wanted to correct him, wanted to ask if it had really slipped his mind so much as Prompto had just been too scared to get involved with him, but what was the point of stirring up any tension now? He was getting what he wanted. His best friend was currently back in his life, buying him gifts, and making him feel special, and he couldn’t complain about any of that.

“This is amazing. Thank you,” he assured Prompto, with another gentle smile before he crossed the room and set it carefully down on his desk. “I’m going to make sure I’m served every meal on that plate,” he smirked.

“You’re the boss,” Prompto shrugged, chuckling.  
  
Noctis tugged on his ballcap, grabbed his wallet from his nightstand and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans, making it so easy for Prompto to forget that this was a _king _he was very-quite-possibly dating. Everything seemed so normal, like it was before they’d ever left on the roadtrip. In so many ways, Prompto wished they could travel back to that time—before they’d lost their home or he’d been tortured by Ardyn, before he’d lost Noct to the crystal or known how short his time was.

He blinked in surprise as Noctis reached out to squeeze his hand.

“Ready to go?” he smiled, and Prompto pushed those thoughts deep down inside, reminding himself that if now was all he had, he’d better make the most of it.

“Yeah,” he agreed, closing his fingers around Noct’s hand. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The coffee shop was one that used to reside in the same location years ago, tucked in among a dozen or so different shops along the strip mall. It was a place that the boys hadn’t frequented as teenagers, as coffee had seemed at that time to be more of an adult drink—or a stuffy ol’ Ignis drink. Noctis had only been in a couple of times to pick up a bagel on his way to school. Now that the place had been restored to its former glory, Noct thought it might be a good place to start over with Prompto. Reconnecting with Prompto made everything feel so new; a new place to eat might help them feel the excitement of first dates again.

Noctis held the door for Prompto as he entered, for which Prompto thanked him with a small smile. He was grateful that they both looked enough like commoners that they wouldn’t draw attention, nor risk Noctis’ reputation that seemed to be on thin ice.

They found a small, round table at the corner of the cafe, the nearby window painted with the cafe’s logo, providing a bit of privacy while still getting to enjoy the sunlight—sunlight that was all thanks to Noct. It was perfect, Prompto thought.

A waitress came to greet them almost immediately, and handed them some menus with a smile.

“Good morning, gentlemen. Will you be joining us for breakfast?”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Noctis agreed, with a nod, and Prompto couldn’t help but smirk at how cute he was as he looked up at her, disguising himself in his old ball cap. If they were lucky, they would get through this morning without her—or anyone else—identifying him as the king of Lucis.

“The special this morning is two pieces of toast made with porridge bread, and a side of fruit with yogurt,” the girl informed them, and Prompto put a hand to his rumbling stomach, already catching the scent of toast and bagels wafting from the kitchen.

“I’ll go with that, actually. Sounds delicious,” Prompto spoke up, and Noctis gave him a glance, hoping his quick decision was based on food preference, and had nothing to do with making this date go faster.

“What about you?” he asked with a patient smile, and Noct smiled in return, relaxing.

“I’ll have the same,” he announced, handing the menus back to her.

“And to drink?”

“Coffee, please,” came Prompto’s reply. Another of Noct’s curious glances was directed at him before he smiled and turned back to the girl.

“Same.”

“Great. Shouldn’t be long,” she promised, returning to the kitchen. Noct waited until the kitchen door swung shut before he leaned in, chuckling softly.

“Guess I probably should have asked you if you liked coffee before I invited you to a coffee shop,” he said, almost apologetically.

“I do like it,” Prompto assured him, with a gentle laugh. It was an acquired taste, but after so many early mornings of hunting, he’d come to thoroughly enjoy it.   
  
“Do_ you_?” he asked, as the Noctis he remembered hadn’t even tried Ignis’ favourite flavour of Ebony.

“No idea,” Noctis shrugged, innocently, before they both burst into laughter.

“Well, I see you’re as adorable as ever,” Prompto grinned, and it warmed Noctis’ heart to finally hear such endearing words. The way his eyes softened, squinting slightly into a tender look, did not go unnoticed by Prompto. The younger eventually looked away from the king’s gaze out of embarrassment, feeling a little abashed for having brought out such emotion in him.

“Listen, Noct, I’ve been wondering... did you mean what you said in Galdin Quay? All that stuff about... wanting me by your side no matter how much things have changed?” Prompto slowly sputtered out. He slouched back in his chair, arms folded tightly and protectively across his chest, and Noctis leaned in again, hoping to quell any fears he had.

“Of course, I did. I meant every word.”

“Do you think it’s a bad idea to get involved right now? And be honest.”

“Tch, you think I’d lie?” Noct tested.  
  
There was a teasing air about his voice, but it was meant to disguise the worry underneath. Was this why Prompto had grown so pale the night before when they’d returned to the Citadel? Because they had re-entered the reality where their actions could have consequences? Prompto rubbed his arm awkwardly.

“I just want to make sure you’re really thinking it through. I mean, there’s a lot of pressure on you right now, and I can’t guarantee that I will always be able to rule by your side.”  
  
Noctis frowned, trying to figure out when the promise of ‘ever at your side’ had faded, but perhaps it was merely through growing up. Prompto understood this world they were currently living in a lot better than Noct did, having spent the last ten years in it while Noctis hadn’t.  
  
Perhaps it was his doubts about being a Niff. Maybe he believed that when word reached public ears, they wouldn’t be safe as a couple anymore. Maybe he thought people would reject a Lucian king who would choose to marry someone of Niflheim, though Noctis thought a lot of those old stigmas had been put to rest. Or maybe it had to do with whatever Gladio and Ignis had been talking about when they’d said Prompto had been through a lot, whatever secret Prompto had admitted he was hiding the night he’d found him in tears in the ballroom. Noct supposed it was reasonable to have doubts; Prompto had always had them, and adults always tended to have even more.

Noctis reached out for Prompto’s hand, wanting to put any worries to rest. Prompto allowed his hand to be pulled out of the crook of his elbow and into Noct’s gentle grasp.

“I meant every word I said, but if you’re not ready, then we don’t have to commit to anything yet. I’m just happy to be on a date with Prompto Argentum, famous daemon hunter.”

“Please,” Prompto scoffed, playfully brushing a hand through the front of his hair. “You flatter me, Noct.”

“So, I was wondering, do you still take a lot of pictures? I know you snapped a few that night in Altissia, but...”

“Well, not as many as I used to, but I do have a decent amount from my hunting days,” Prompto said, knowing that was probably the part Noct was interested in, considering his past fascinations with that time in his life. “Just so happens, I’ve got my camera right here,” he went on, leaning over to dig in his messenger bag, which sat on the floor beside him, and sadly freeing his hand from Noct’s.

“Why did you stop taking so many?” Noct dared to inquire, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. He hadn’t forgotten that night in Altissia when Prompto had actually had to _search his bag_ to see if he’d even _brought _his camera along.

“Well, you know, it wasn’t the same after... after you were gone,” Prompto solemnly admitted, retrieving his camera and sitting straight in his seat, though his head remained low, gaze timid as he stared at the table.

“Probably because ninety percent of your shots featured yours truly,” Noct smirked, and Prompto glanced up in surprise, a smile crossing his face at the relief that Noctis was trying to keep the mood light.

“And those memory cards are all tucked away, safe and sound. No one is allowed to touch those,” Prompto smirked.

“Good,” Noctis smiled coyly back. “Some were for your eyes only.”

“Right. ‘Cause those shots of you in your heart-covered underwear were _so _risqué,” Prompto laughed.

“Well, excuse me for being camera shy,” Noct rolled his eyes. Prompto let out another chuckle and stared longingly out the window.

“Good times. And I mean _all _the times we spent together,” Prompto reminisced.

“They were. I don’t think we realized how good we had it. Even after Insomnia fell, we still managed to have a lot of good times on that roadtrip,” Noctis added, even his own voice losing its teasing air now, as he fell into the melancholia of the moment.

“We did.”

“I’m glad you were with me. Through everything,” the king smiled softly, which pulled Prompto’s gaze back to him like magic.

“Me too, Noct,” he promised, granting him a sincere, albeit slightly sad, smile.

The waitress’ face appeared in one of the round windows of the kitchen doors before she came barreling through them with a tray in hand.

“Your coffee, sirs,” she offered, taking the two mugs off of her tray and placing them in front of the boys. She grabbed the coffee pot next and poured some of the dark, steaming liquid into each of their cups. Lastly, she set down a bowl full of tiny milks and creamers, before stepping back and offering them a smile.

“Do you need anything else with your coffee?”

“No, I think we’re good,” Prompto told her with a nod, and she gave one in return before heading back to the kitchen. Prompto reached for a couple of creamers, and pulled the top off the first one, dumping it quickly into his cup.

“Alright, what the hell do I do here?” Noct asked, dumbly, suspecting it would get a chuckle out of Prompto, which it did. Prompto reached into the little bowl in the middle of the table and grabbed a couple of creamers for Noctis, too.

“You’ll probably want these in it,” he said, handing them to Noctis who was already holding out his palm.

“Okay,” he said, watching as Prompto poured his second creamer into his mug. Noctis followed his lead, pouring the small tubs of cream into his drink.

“You can try it and see if you like it like that, but if I know you at all, I’m gonna bet you’ll want to add some sugar,” Prompto grinned, grabbing his spoon and stirring his own drink as he spoke. He watched intently as Noctis brought the cup to his lips, frowning as the strong smell hit his nose. Bravely he took a sip, and Prompto laughed as his face scrunched up in distaste.

“Ugh, that is so bitter,” Noct coughed, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth as he set his mug down. “How do you drink this?” he asked, unable to believe the sight of Prompto drinking his sugarless coffee so casually.

“I _thought _you’d want sugar. It takes time to get used to the taste,” Prompto grinned, reaching for the sugar shaker on the table and pushing it toward his friend. “Just try adding a little at a time,” Prompto instructed, and Noctis obeyed, pouring a little sugar onto his spoon, dumping it in, and stirring before cautiously trying another sip. Prompto watched in amusement as he did this five or six times before finally setting the sugar aside.

“So, what’ve you got?” Noct asked, eyes travelling to the device abandoned on the table.

“Oh, right. The pictures.” Prompto reached for his camera, and flicked it on. He pressed the triangle on the back to get his old photos up on display, and clicked through until he found a good starting point.

“Here’s a group of us one night after a mission,” Prompto said, leaning forward and tilting the camera so he and Noctis could both see it.  
  
Noctis gazed at the photo, smiling at the familiar sight of Prompto in the forefront of the frame, holding the camera up to take the shot. A circle of hunters sat around the fire with their beer bottles held up in the air, faces beaming. Noctis recognized some familiar faces of people who were now his own glaives.

“That’s a pretty typical night. Oh, here’re a few action shots,” Prompto went on, clicking through a few images of his comrades, cutting through enemies and summoning their shields through their king’s magic.  
  
He came to one of himself that someone else had taken from the sidelines, and Noctis cleared his throat as he took in the sight of Prompto looking so stunning; his strong arms were outstretched and gun pointed at a voretooth ahead of him, the faint glow of a glaive’s shield around him, as if just fading out.

“It’s weird to see you like this... using my magics, just like my dad’s glaives,” he hoarsely breathed out. Prompto sucked in a breath that was equally strained.

“Yeah. I remember the first time I healed myself with those magics. I felt like... I could sense you there. I know it sounds stupid, but that’s how I knew you weren’t dead, that you were still with me, helping me every step of the way, just like you always have,” Prompto confessed, and as eyes met, Noctis desperately wanted to lean in further and capture those pale lips that he hoped had only ever been meant for him. Prompto averted his gaze before he could do any such thing, and flicked to another photo.

“Oh, I love this one. Look who was in Lestallum when I went to visit,” Prompto beamed, showing the picture to Noct with an extra little tilt of his camera.

“Talcott!” Noctis smiled warmly, eyeing the image of the boy, whose age was somewhere between when Noct had last seen him as a child, and the adult he was now.  
  
Talcott was standing behind a crouched-down Prompto, with his arms slung playfully around his neck. In this photo, Prompto did look like he could be a parent, and it stunned Noct for the second time that his lean and nerdy little Prompto had matured so much in their time apart.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Is this too much for you?” Prompto asked, catching the glimpse of sadness in Noct’s eyes.

“No, it’s okay. I just... really missed being near you,” Noct admitted, pushing forth a small smile. “In the crystal, I... I used to dream of you. I used to cry out for you, and to see you here in front of me is still a little... overwhelming, I guess?”

“I...” Prompto stuttered, letting that first part sink in before he spoke on. “I know how you feel.”

“I guess it’s just hard knowing I missed a huge part of your life.”

“Yeah, I know,” Prompto sighed softly, and his eyes widened in slight surprise as Noct reached for his face. A thumb brushed tenderly over his cheek, and—quickly deciding to forget the world around them—he settled into the touch, expression softening.

“You’ve grown so much,” Noctis murmured, giving a smile that still contained longing and sadness.  
  
Prompto tilted his head to nestle further into his palm, and he raised a hand to cup around Noct’s. He wanted to say he was sorry, but figured it would be stupid to apologize for such an inevitable thing; he couldn’t stop himself from growing up, just like he couldn’t stop his body from aging.

The sound of the door swinging open again brought the boys out of their daze, and they pulled apart. Prompto stuffed his camera into his bag as the waitress approached with their food.

“Your breakfast, gentlemen,” she announced with a smile, setting a plate down in front of each of them.  
  
Prompto avoided her gaze now, for he feared his face would heat up knowing she’d probably just caught them in their _more-than-friendly_ position. If anyone did recognize Noctis, would he be in trouble?  
  
He almost laughed to himself at the familiarity of that feeling; he’d always been scared of doing something wrong, of being seen too close to Noctis and being deemed unworthy. But everything was different now, wasn’t it? Noctis was no longer a mere prince, but a king. Was he free to choose his own path now? His own partner?

Prompto suddenly found himself wondering what that would be like, to announce their love to the world, to not have to hide their affections while in the public eye. He thought about the media coverage, about interviews regarding Lucis’ restoration, and Noctis talking right into the camera with his arm proudly around his waist.

“Prompto? You okay?” Noctis asked, and Prompto blinked, realizing the waitress had already walked away, and Noct had his bagel in hand, caught halfway between his mouth and his plate. Prompto shook his head with a smile.

“Sorry. Just in a daze.” He reached for his fruit dish and spoon, and scooped up a bit of yogurt with his cantaloupe and berries. He popped the spoonful into his mouth, and gave Noct another grin when he seemed to be wearing that same look of concern.

“I’m fine, Noct,” he promised, as the fantasy fell away. He wasn’t ready. He couldn’t be ready when he still hadn’t told Noctis the truth, could he?

“Is this about... whatever has been bothering you lately?”

“Wh-what? No,” Prompto shook his head, violently.

“Sorry, I just... I mean, I get it. Some things _are _hard to talk about,” Noctis said, and as worry lines appeared between his brows, Prompto had a fleeting worry that Noctis was keeping secrets as well. Of course, it certainly wasn’t fair to pry when he wasn’t giving Noctis answers either.

“No, it’s not about that. I was just wondering... are you okay since we encountered those guys in Altissia? I know you were pretty shaken up,” Prompto said, softly, hoping Noct would believe that was what was on his mind the entire time. Noctis’ next bite of food was swallowed down hard, and it took him a while to meet Prompto’s eyes.

“Well, I think you were right about what you said. I have to just keep doing what I’ve been doing. Focusing on Lucis, rebuilding what needs fixing here, and then donating to other places when I can. I can’t dish out money right, left, and centre without losing the faith of Lucian citizens, so I make them the priority. I shouldn’t even be _expected_ to support everyone else right away, right? In time, maybe, but not yet,” the king explained, and Prompto smiled, gently and proudly.

“What?” Noctis quirked a suspicious brow.

“You’re doing that thing again. Where you sound like a king,” Prompto murmured, his eyes full of admiration, and Noctis rubbed the back of his head.

“Don’t get used to it,” he mumbled, stuffing in a piece of bagel that was far too big for his mouth, and making Prompto laugh at the extreme change in his personality.

They shared a grin, and the look in their eyes was enough to know that they were both happy in this moment. They may have changed, but they were still the same people at the core, and that would forever remain the case.

* * *

“Hey,” came a gentle knock on Prompto’s door, which was already standing ajar. Just like in the college dormitories, Prompto often liked to keep it open so he could be a part of the comings and goings, even if it was just watching people go by. Nowadays, he had friends that he didn’t mind stopping in when they wanted, either.

“Hey, kiddo. What’s up?” Prompto asked, looking up from his camera as a pink-haired girl strolled in and plopped down beside him on the edge of his bed.

“Rumours said the king and his escort were back. How did it go?” she asked, hands on her knees as she glanced at the back of his camera, catching glimpses of a bright and beautiful city she’d never seen. She assumed it must be Altissia, with its bridges and gondolas and lights.

“It was... intense, I guess you could say.”

“With the political side of things, or with King Noctis?” The inquiry came out slowly and cautiously, and Fae lowered her head a little as she quizzed Prompto, her mouth stiff and eyes worried as she hoped to meet the man’s gaze. Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away from his camera, and gave a sigh. His face looked weary, his features seeming to sag, his lips pouting slightly as he thought.

“Both, actually.”

“So, are you two... going to get back together, or—?” She stopped talking abruptly as Prompto shot her a wide-eyed glance. After a second or two, his surprise twisted into embarrassed amusement.

“Man, you’re nosy,” he teased, chuckling softly, as he set his camera aside and folded his hands in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” Fae eventually uttered, when it seemed Prompto didn’t know what to say next. “It would just be nice to see you truly happy. The way your friends tell it, the old Prompto was really something to see. They say you were the best at keeping everyone’s spirits up.”

“They said that?” Prompto laughed, but his voice quickly grew weaker, more solemn. “And here I thought all I did was annoy them.”

“Ugh, you did that, too,” came Gladio’s gruff sigh from down the hall, making Fae and Prompto perk up as he and Ignis appeared in the doorway.

“Thanks, big guy. Really, thanks a lot,” Prompto rolled his eyes. Gladio guided Iggy into one of the twin armchairs before flopping down in one himself, his muscular arms draped over the back of it.

“So, everything okay? Did you get to talk to Noct about...” Gladio started, then paused with a glance at Fae.

“It’s okay. She knows about everything anyway. I don’t mind talking about it with all of you here,” Prompto said, giving Fae a welcoming smile, as she’d begun to appear uncomfortable. Gladio and Ignis had figured as much, but it was better to be sure before they dove into the conversation.

“How did Noct respond to the news of your condition?” Ignis asked, and Prompto’s hands squirmed uncomfortably in his lap. Of course, someone had to come right out and ask.

Could he lie? He hated lying, but sadly, he’d had lots of practice over the years—lying about his origins, making up stories in front of his classmates about what wonderful parents he had, and denying his feelings for Noct to anyone who pestered him about the rumours.

Did he really want to mess up this thing with Noctis when he wasn’t sure it was going to bloom any further anyway? Should he wait, and maybe the fire would burn out on its own? If it did burn out, wouldn't that lessen the blow for Noctis when the truth did come out? Maybe lying was the best way to buy him time for now, at least until he figured out what would even become of them.

“He was upset,” Prompto started. “But he said he didn’t want to speak of it ever again, so... it’s probably best not to bring it up,” he fibbed. That was the best he could do.

“Hmm,” Ignis pondered, reaching for the bridge of his nose, worriedly. “That’s not like Noct.”

“He probably doesn’t know how to deal with this yet, just like the rest of us had to struggle through it,” Gladio said, his gaze on the floor and his expression soft.

“Yes, I suppose, and it would be even harder for Noct, given your history,” Ignis agreed. He lowered his hand from his nose and sat forward in his chair. Prompto knew that if Ignis had been capable of making eye contact, he would have in that moment.

“And how are _you_, Prompto?”

“I’m fine. Honest,” he smiled, hoping the man could hear it in his voice.

“No changes?”

“Nope. I’m just the same old me. So far, so good,” he promised, and he didn’t miss Fae nor Gladio’s sad expression as he addressed the room.  
  
Gladio pressed a hand to his forehead, looking like he was struggling to think of some way to get Prompto out of this tragic situation. Fae kept her head low, her eyes darting away when Prompto tried to meet them.

“Come on, you guys! Don’t be like this! There’s only room for one moody guy in the Citadel, and Noct’s got it covered,” Prompto grinned, and Gladio and Ignis managed a smirk.

“I’mma tell him you said that,” the Shield grunted, getting up from his seat. “You comin’, Iggy?”

“Actually, I wonder if I might have a word with Prompto alone?” Ignis requested, and Fae immediately got up from her seat while Gladio heaved a sigh.

“Alright, but don’t go too hard on him, whatever you do, Iggy.”

“I’m not going to scold him,” Ignis practically scoffed.

“Your track record with Noct would say otherwise,” Gladio smirked, with a wink at Fae, who let out a small laugh as they exited. Gladio closed the door behind them, and Ignis raised his head, listening hard to make sure they were alone.

“It’s just us,” Prompto confirmed for him, and Ignis nodded, folding one leg across the other, and grasping his cane tightly where it leaned against the chair beside him.

“Then may I ask what exactly happened on your voyage with Noct? He mentioned attacks, but it was difficult to get him to say much more than that. He seemed very nonchalant about it.”

“Well, there was a guy in Galahd who shot at us while we were coming back from gathering food for the townspeople. I managed to knock him out before he did either of us any real harm, and we left Galahd right after that. I got some pictures of him in case the council wants to take a look,” Prompto explained, watching the concerned frown deepen on Ignis’ face.

“Yes, that would be most helpful. Go on.”

“And then, one night when we were in Altissia, a group of men stopped us in an alley. They started beating Noct, and said some pretty awful things about him and King Regis, about how they’d both failed everyone.”

“How did you escape?” Ignis queried.

“W-well, Noct wasn’t fighting back, and I was scared they were going to really hurt him, and I… pulled my guns on them,” Prompto admitted. He was embarrassed to say it, but knew he had to. Ignis pursed his lips, looking so stern, so concerned and disapproving.

“Then I fear that you and Noctis may be in danger. Not only by those who would harm you, but if the media gets word of this, then it will severely hurt the public’s image of Noctis and the Crown.”

“I was only trying to protect Noct! I know, I did a stupid thing, but the first rule of Crownsguard training was to protect him at all cost,” Prompto defended himself, but felt so much like a child in that moment. Ignis quirked a brow at him.

“I’m… I’m sorry. What I mean to say is, I take full responsibility for my actions. I understand what kind of danger this could have brought to the king,” Prompto apologized, placing a hand over his heart, and bowing. He knew Ignis couldn’t see the action, but it made him at least feel better about himself.

“Perhaps it would be best not to make any _attachments_ to Noctis too well-known, particularly outside these walls.” Prompto perked up at the way Ignis had emphasized that word.

“Attachments?”

“Prompto, forgive me if this is rather forward of me, but it’s come to my attention that you and Noctis may have had... _relations_ while you were away.”

Prompto sputtered out a gobsmacked noise, leaning back a little on the edge of the bed.

“Wh-what? Where did you hear that?!”

“Gladio suspected. Noct confirmed,” Ignis said, pushing his glasses up slightly. It was always so hard to read Ignis—even harder now that he couldn’t give any subtle cues with his eyes. His indifferent, matter-of-fact tone certainly didn’t give Prompto any clues as to what he was thinking. Steeling himself, he sat forward again, and rested his hands on his knees.

“Is that a problem?” he asked, knowing full well that ten years ago, he never would have had the courage to pose such a question, but he was a grown man now, and maybe it was none of Ignis’ business what Noctis chose to do with him—king or not. Ignis tightened his grasp on his cane and sat forward.

“It’s not good to keep your partner in the dark, particularly in such dire circumstances as yours.” Prompto flinched at the words that carried the weight of accusation. So, Ignis hadn’t bought his lie.

“Are you talking about my condition?” Prompto inquired softly.

“Of course.”

“I told him everything, Iggy. Promise! But he said he didn’t want to talk about it until things get worse. Said we’d cross that bridge when we came to it, and he told me to tell you guys not to bring it up ‘cause it would only upset him. I think for now, we just have to respect that.”

Ignis was silent for the longest time, and Prompto could have sworn he was trying to learn how to see again so he could pick up every little facial twitch that would have told him that he was still lying.

“But surely, we will have to discuss how this will affect Noct’s future. If you two are going to be wed someday, then we must be prepared for what will follow. Is Noctis really prepared to rule alone, or to find another suitor?” The tiny, pained noise that escaped Prompto’s tight throat was enough to bring Ignis’ rambling to a halt, and he sat back, the sternness leaving his face.  
  
Despite the consequences, Prompto’s mind wanted to stick to that word: _wed_. Had Noctis mentioned something to Ignis? Did Noct actually think about stuff like that?

“My apologies, Prompto. I don’t wish to cause you any further heartache, but nor would I wish heartache upon Noctis.”

“It’s okay, but you don’t have to worry so much. Marriage isn’t even something we ever discussed as teenagers, you know?” Ignis looked surprised by that announcement, but chose not to comment.

“But... does that mean that Noct is free to choose? I mean, hypothetically, he could choose to marry anyone he wants?”

“It’s unclear at this point. Even if it was permitted, however, the council wouldn’t necessarily agree with his decision. It’s my job as advisor to make Noctis aware of the pros and cons.”

“And if he were talking about marrying me...? What would you tell him?” came Prompto’s weak voice. He wasn’t sure why he was asking when he probably didn’t want to know the answer, and when he was letting himself think about a future that he would probably never have—and _should_ probably never have, for Noct’s sake.  
  
Ignis let out a long sigh, and let go of his cane, resting it carefully against the chair and reaching a hand forward. Prompto outstretched his own, allowing Ignis to hold it within his own two.

“Please understand, Prompto, that as your friend, I wish only for your happiness. I wish you and Noct could live a wonderful life together if that’s what you both desire, but as an advisor to the Crown, I must also consider the dangers.”

“What dangers?” Prompto swallowed hard, the barcode on his wrist seeming to burn at the words.

“What will happen to Noct’s leadership when you’re no longer at his side. Whether he will be able to focus on what must be done to keep the world at peace. Prompto, I only bring up these issues out of concern for you and for the Crown. If you were to become Noctis’ consort, it would mean you would be required to take charge if Noct was ever ill or absent. I wouldn’t want this to put any extra strain on your health, if you are even well enough to rule at that point,” Ignis explained, and Prompto lowered his head.

“Y-yeah. Makes sense,” he sighed, shakily, not wanting to hear it, but knowing Ignis was right to worry.

“And I hate to say it, but I worry that word of your origins may not work in our favour,” Ignis explained, and Prompto slowly pulled his hand free of Ignis’. He’d been afraid of that one.

He stared at his friend, whose mouth was firmly set in a line, and he wished he could see more apology in those bleached, dead eyes. But perhaps being an advisor meant there was very little room for sympathy.

“Because I was born in Niflheim? Or because I was created to be an MT?”

“Both, though I would hope the latter would never be public knowledge.” While Prompto wanted to agree with that statement, on some level, it still hurt. A lot.

Was he something that Noctis should be ashamed of? Something evil and tainted? Something that could cause their homelands to be at war again?

“For the most part, I would hope a union between Lucis and Niflheim such as your marriage would be viewed as a symbol of peace, just as Noct’s engagement to Lady Lunafreya was meant to be. However, in light of the recent threats against the king, I would not be particularly eager to spread word of your courting at this time.”

“Ignis, hey, you’re getting way ahead of yourself,” Prompto shook his hands wildly, knowing Ignis couldn’t see the action, but needing an outlet for all that nervous energy in his fingertips.  
  
“We’re hardly even ‘courting’, okay? We’re just getting to know each other again after everything that’s happened,” he scrambled to explain, because he couldn’t bear to hear any more reasons confirming what had always been his worst fear—that he wasn’t good enough for Noctis, and that the perfect ending he’d always imagined for his life story was just a silly fantasy. People like him didn’t deserve people like Noct.

“Really? Things have been moving a little fast if what you say is true, don’t you think?” Ignis tested, and Prompto could tell from the odd gleam in his eyes that he was referring to the incident in Galdin again. He wondered how much Noct had told him.

“O-oh, that? It wasn’t planned. It just sort of happened, and... maybe it was a good thing. Because it’s the first time I’ve really felt close to him since he came back,” Prompto explained, voice desperate, like he wanted validation for his feelings.  
  
He wanted to hear that everything was okay, that the tears pooling in his eyes were completely unnecessary, but he knew from the unchanging expression on Ignis’ face that he was still questioning whether or not them being together was the right move.

“Prompto, I hope you will not take my words to heart,” Ignis said, to fill the uncomfortable silence, if nothing else.

“No, w-why would I take them to heart?” Prompto tried to play it cool as he got to his feet, strolling casually around the room as a distraction from his emotions, but they were coming on strong.

“I am sorry,” Ignis said, reaching for his cane again and getting to his feet with a hand on the armrest to support himself. He could tell by the sound of Prompto’s pacing that he should probably take his leave and give the young man some time to think.

“But please, consider what is best for Noctis before you get in too deep with him. There is a ball coming up in a few months, in Accordo. Noctis will be expected to mingle and seek potential mates there. Perhaps that would be a good opportunity to set him free.”

Prompto watched through blurred vision as Ignis strode toward the door. He fumbled for the door handle before he pulled it open and made his exit.  
  
Prompto held his head in his hands, fingers tangling into his blond hair. He waited until Ignis was probably out of earshot before he rushed over and slammed the door closed. He let out a noise somewhere between a scream, a cry, and a desperate growl, before he crumpled to the ground, his knees taking the brunt of the fall. Head hung low, he allowed himself to release a few quiet sobs as tears travelled over his red cheeks. He wiped at them viciously with the back of his hand.

His phone dinged a second later, and he reluctantly dug it out of his pocket. He sniffled as he unlocked it and read the text.

_Noctis Lucis Caelum: I have a lot of paperwork to do after dinner tonight. Really boring stuff, but you’re welcome to come hang out while I work._

Prompto whimpered as he finished reading, wanting so badly to run to Noctis’ room and fall apart in his arms. That’s the way it had always been. That’s what they’d done whenever one of them was going through a hard time.  
  
He would always remember the day Noctis had shown up at his apartment after learning the news of his betrothal to Lady Lunafreya. He’d been such a mess, he hadn’t even been able to tell Prompto what was wrong. He’d simply knocked on the door, his face red and drenched, and Prompto had pulled him inside, holding him tightly against him. He’d somehow managed to get the door closed and manoeuvre them over to the couch, where they stayed for a good ten minutes or more before Noctis was able to stuttter out the words that shattered Prompto’s world as well. Prompto had managed to stay strong, and just hold Noctis while he cried.

But maybe those days were over. Maybe he couldn’t ask for Noctis to be his pillar of support anymore, because history showed that they couldn’t help but entangle themselves deeper into the other’s life when they were together, and if Ignis thought it was a bad idea... Who was Prompto to argue with a royal advisor, especially when Ignis’ life goal was to make sure everything that happened was in Noct’s best interest?

Prompto’s fingers hovered over his phone, waiting to type a response, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. Eventually, he shut off the power and stuffed it in his pocket again as he forced himself to his feet. With a final sob, he wandered over to lock his door, prepared to lay low for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, feel free to let me know! Feedback is always appreciated :) Hugs to all who have shown their support thus far <3 Thank you, all!!


	8. A Step Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger warning - There is a very brief mention of depression and self harm in the first scene of this chapter, so please skim over it if you need to. Thanks!

_Message received at 10:03am  
_ _Noctis Lucis Caelum: Hey, I missed you last night._

_  
Message received at 2:24pm  
_ _Noctis Lucis Caelum: Everything okay?_

_  
Message received at 4:36pm  
_ _Noctis Lucis Caelum: Hello?_

_  
Message received at 6:00 pm  
_ _Noctis Lucis Caelum: Prompto?  
  
_

“Prompto?” The knock on the door brought Prompto spiralling out of dreamworld, eyes flying open, heart pounding from the start he’d been given.

“Prom, please open up,” sounded Noctis’ gentle voice from the other side of the door.  
  
Prompto sat up and rubbed at his eyes, taking in the sight of his bed. He’d been having a restless sleep by the look of things, the sheets and bed-covers seeming to stretch in every direction, hanging off the sides of the bed-frame in some places and laying crumpled up in others. He’d given up on the idea of a productive day when he had woken up sometime after eleven and seen Noctis’ text; productivity was out of the question after such a depressing evening the night before.  
  
He had thought a lot about what Ignis had said, and a lot about what the weight of his secret might do to Noctis. Ignis was right, he figured—as he usually was—and that meant... Prompto’s stomach did a hard flip. He hated that he had let Noctis down, hated that he had to wedge them apart again, hated that he had to break both of their hearts in one blow.

Prompto ran a hand through the back of his hair, and immediately knew from the tiny tufts that were sticking up that he probably looked as bad as he felt. Still, he dragged himself out of bed, and crossed the room, his sweaty palm reaching for the door handle and pulling it open to reveal his king standing in front of him, wearing a seriously worried look.

“What happened? You look like hell,” Noctis stated, eyes wide, and hands twitching at his sides as he fought off the urge to pull him into his arms, pat down his hair, and comfort him until he was ready to talk. Prompto managed a tiny chuckle, his gaze travelling toward the floor—partly out of guilt, and partly because his eyelids felt so heavy, even the skin beneath them felt saggy at the moment.

“Thanks.”

“I mean it. What happened?” Noctis asked again, pushing his way into the room and closing the door behind him. He ducked his head, hands gently gripping Prompto’s shoulders as he tried to meet his gaze, but Prompto looked away, suddenly appearing ashamed of himself—maybe even afraid.

“Prompto, come on. You’re scaring me,” Noct said, eyes still wide as he stared at his friend’s turned head, at the way he looked like he either wanted to cry or bolt. He watched the way Prompto’s chest rose and fell, its speed increasing with each shaky breath, and he told himself that one of them had to stay calm here; under the circumstances, it had to be him.

“I can’t do this anymore, Noct,” Prompto whimpered out.

“Can’t do what?”

Noctis’ voice was so gentle, Prompto was afraid it was only going to make it that much easier to break. He drew in another quavering breath, and found the courage to meet Noctis’ eyes. Doing so was the only way to make Noctis listen to him; he knew that.

“You know that ball in Accordo that Aranea talked about? I think you should go. Because, this thing with you? I can’t.”

There was so much finality in his tone, but so much pain in his eyes, Noctis wasn’t sure what to believe. He hesitated, simply staring Prompto down for a few very long seconds while he tried to reason out what was happening. Prompto was shrinking under his gaze, and although Noctis didn’t want to make him feel any smaller, he needed a second longer to wet his throat in order to get even a word out.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, and Prompto felt so utterly guilty when he saw the injured look in Noctis’ eyes—the upward slant of his brows, the sad, downward twitch of his lips. Prompto shook his head.

“No.”

“Did I say something stupid? I know I suck at communicating sometimes, and if I said something stupid, just tell me.”

“You didn’t.”

Prompto’s answers were so short and abruptly spoken, like he was on autopilot, spitting out conveniently small and simple answers. But Noctis needed more, needed to understand. He would have felt like he was talking to a mere machine if it weren’t for the pained expression on Prompto’s face. He was hurting, and if that were so, then why was he doing this? Why was he making them both hurt more?

“Is there someone else?” Noctis asked, for what felt like the millionth time.

“No, Noct.”

“Then I don’t understand. You seemed genuinely happy when we were together. In Altissia, at breakfast yesterday... Is someone telling you to stay away from me? Is it Ignis, or—?”

“No, Noct. It’s just... it’s just me. And I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. Us being together would ruin everything.”

Prompto couldn’t blame Ignis for this, for all the things he’d said were things that had crossed his own mind at some point over the years. It may have hurt to hear them being uttered back to him, to know that all those worries held some validity, but they were indeed concerns that Prompto had already had.

“What do you mean, ruin everything?” Noctis inquired.  
  
His heart stung as he raised a hand to Prompto’s face, and the young man stepped back—not out of his reach, but enough of a flinch that Noctis certainly couldn’t ignore it. Noctis held his ground, and brushed his thumb over Prompto’s cheek, hoping the soothing gesture and his gentle eyes would lure him back to him; it seemed to work, even if only slightly.

Prompto’s eyes were turning to slits now, his breathing irregular as he tried his hardest not to break down. It was stupid to break down, wasn’t it? He was a grown man, and he’d believed for a long time that Noctis wouldn’t be coming back. He had been ready to live out the rest of his short life alone, so why was it killing him to say this now? The answer was simple. Noctis was his world, and he was about to give him up. It was so much harder to live knowing Noctis was right there, and that he couldn’t have him, than to live knowing he was gone and that they might soon meet again in death.

“Is it because of Lucis? I know I have a lot more responsibility now, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t... It doesn’t mean that I don’t _need_ you, or even that I shouldn’t_ have_ you,” Noctis murmured.

Prompto dwelled on how good his fingers felt on the side of his face, like each gentle stroke pulled his soul a little closer to Noct’s. He wanted to believe his words, wanted to believe that Noct’s reasoning was sound, but according to Ignis, it wasn’t. Noctis _shouldn’t_ have him—a commoner, a Niff, a failed MT who was running out of time.

Prompto closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, making himself slow it enough so that he could at least try to manage his thoughts. He didn’t need much—just one good reason for Noctis to give up the fight and leave him for good. It had to be believable, and it probably had to hurt.

“Too much has changed, Noct. Ten years is too long for everything to just fall back into place. I tried, but I don’t feel—”

“Bullshit,” Noctis growled, and Prompto pulled away from his hand as if it had burned him. His sad expression transformed into one of fierce anger, and slight disbelief. He wiped his forearm over the spot where Noct’s hand had been, as if washing himself clean.

“Don’t tell me how I do or don’t feel,” Prompto warned him.

He looked like he was in a battle stance now, his legs apart and knees bent, at the ready for whatever would be thrown at him next, and Noctis raised his hands in surrender. He didn’t want to fight with Prompto; he’d been there, and it was the worst feeling in the world. He took in a deep breath of his own to calm himself.

“Maybe I could let this go if I really thought this was what you wanted. If I thought you were happy. But I don’t. Prompto, you seem miserable, and I’m worried about you,” Noctis said, his voice returning to that tender one from before he’d called Prompto’s bluff. Prompto continued to stand there, eyes shifting from side to side like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

“Are you depressed?” Noctis asked, and Prompto repeated the question to himself. _Probably_.

“Are you... thinking of hurting yourself?” came the next careful question. _Definitely not._ Quite the opposite. He wanted to give himself _more_ time, not less.

“No, Noct, of course not,” Prompto finally replied, his voice coming out in a tired-sounding murmur. His defences were down again, and he shifted his weight back to where it should be, legs coming to stand straight under him.

“Okay, then, will you just... humour me, and tell me the answer one more time? Are you still in love with me?” Noctis asked, weakly, needing to hear it once more if he was going to believe it. Prompto said nothing.

“Do you still want to be with me?”

“Yes,” Prompto whispered, meeting Noctis’ eyes for a brief second before his gaze fluttered toward the floor. “To both of those questions.”

“Then why aren’t you? I’m right here, ready and waiting,” Noctis said, holding his arms out to his sides, displaying himself for the world to see.  
  
Prompto bit his bottom lip, trying to keep his emotions at bay. Why was Noct so good at reeling him back in? In this moment, his desperate tries to keep him near were so painful, it was frustrating. _Make him let go, Prompto. You know you have to_, Prompto urged himself, and his body shook as he forced himself to use that frustration to his advantage.

“Because I’m not the same person you knew back then. I’ve got a lot more baggage than you’d even know how to deal with, and this...” Prompto paused, his hand flicking back and forth between himself and his friend, his voice gaining irritation as he spoke. “Just isn’t a good fit.”

That was it—the end of his patience, and the last of his strength to hold back his emotions. He turned and hurried for the door, but Noctis’ sharp call of his name halted him before he could make his exit.

Prompto turned his head, but refused to turn his body as Noctis approached. The king debated putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder, but Prompto was looking just a little too hostile at the moment, so he decided words were the only thing he should use in this game of persuasion.

“I _love _you, Prompto,” he started, emphasizing that with his low, stern voice. “But I can’t do this back and forth thing with you. I can’t have you string me along for a while, and then pull away, because it hurts too damn much. So, think about what you’re doing before you walk away,” he warned.

Prompto’s eyes flickered around for a moment, before stopping determinedly on the door. Pressing his lips firmly together, he stormed out of the room. Where, he didn’t know; maybe the showers where he could fix up his bed-mussed hair and tousled appearance. More importantly, it was the best place to hide any possible tears.

Meanwhile, Noctis continued to stand in the bedroom with clenched fists, his heart pounding with so much disbelief, hurt, and anger that he thought it might break apart. He glanced around Prompto’s empty room, feeling so out of place in here all of a sudden—in the place that used to be his haven when he was lonely for his friend’s company.  
  
He wanted to break something. He wanted to smash those bottles of the Galahdian ginger drink that lined the cabinet—bottles that Prompto must have stocked up on while in Galahd, and hadn’t said a word about. Noctis wanted them to stain the gold carpet. He wanted the shards of glass to be a memory of everything Prompto had broken between them.

Instead, it wasn’t the bottles that received his anger, but rather the picture frame that sat on Prompto’s desk—a picture of the four of them in front of the Regalia at the commencement of their roadtrip. He grabbed it and threw it against the opposite wall, his chest heaving and his vision blurring as the thing cracked loudly and fell to the floor.

After everything he’d been through, how could Prompto leave him like this? After all those cold, lonely, horrible days in the crystal, all those days wishing that Prompto could scoop him out of there and hold him close against his warmth, did he somehow deserve to be met with only more cold? After Noctis had helped Prompto overcome so many obstacles and fears, was he really so selfish to disregard Noctis’ problems? Or was Noctis just failing like he always had? Never knowing how to tell him what he was feeling?

Next he yanked open the desk drawer, the old wood squeaking in protest. There sat Prompto’s camera, and in the midst of his fury Noctis found himself reaching for it. He raised it above his head, ready to let it join the picture frame in a pile of broken glass, knowing a blow to something as important as this might just hurt Prompto as much as he had hurt him. But this wasn’t the camera he’d been using at breakfast yesterday, Noctis noticed. It had scratches all over the back display screen, and a nasty diagonal crack that ran from the top right corner to the bottom left. _LOKTON __LX-30_. Noctis could remember Prompto saving up for it when they were in college. This was the camera that had gone through Zegnautus Keep with him, which probably explained its damages.

Noctis quickly realized he didn’t want to hurt Prompto. Not at all. Not ever. Prompto had been through more than any person should.

With a stifled sob, he pulled the camera in against his chest, holding it close as if it were Prompto in his arms, bruised and broken after being in Ardyn’s possession. It occurred to Noctis that maybe Prompto’s inability to reciprocate his affections now were rooted in that time. After what he’d said in Altissia—that he might never be ready to talk about what happened in Zegnautus—it was possible that whatever had happened was making it hard to open up now. Noctis could only imagine the things Ardyn might have said to him, especially with his knowledge that Prompto was in fact the prince’s heart’s desire. What would he have said? What would he have done? Noctis shuddered to think. He wouldn’t put anything past Ardyn.

Noctis managed to blink away his tears, and with a final sniffle he looked down at the camera in his hands, pressed tightly to his chest, thumbs grazing delicately over it. Swallowing down any feelings of fear, he forced himself to press the power button. The screen flickered abnormally, grey bars cycling downward before the LOKTON logo appeared and the menu loaded. Noctis’ thumb hovered above the button to display previously taken photos, hoping there might be a memory card still in the device, along with some possible evidence of what had happened in the Keep. His stomach clenched as his mind conjured up possibilities of what he might see. Maybe Ardyn had used the camera to capture images of Prompto, beaten and restrained. Then again, maybe Prompto would have deleted them by now.

Summoning the last bit of courage he needed, he clicked the button and the last picture taken appeared on the screen. To his surprise, it was nothing horrendous nor gruesome—merely a shot of the two of them in one of the Keep’s dingy beds. They lay atop the beige covers, Noctis fast asleep on his side facing Prompto with an arm protectively around his waist, and Prompto on his back, so close his shoulder was pressed up against Noct’s chest. He held his other arm up above him to take the picture. He wasn’t smiling, but there was still a look of relief on his face as he stared up at the camera; that look spoke volumes. He was safe and sound. Finally.

Noctis wanted to remain on that image forever, realizing that what had come after that moment had been too painful for Prompto to capture, and whatever was before it was potentially even worse. Still, he clicked back, preparing himself for the worst, but it didn’t come. The previous shot on the camera was a selfie of Prompto, clad in his winter attire with a smile on his face and Aranea in the background. He clicked again to find shots of the two of them, taking down monsters in the snow. Prior to that were a few scenery shots that he had taken on the train ride to Gralea. So that was it. There was nothing from while he was captured, which gave Noct no clues as to whether or not Ardyn had anything to do with Prompto’s currently cold demeanor.

But what did it matter? What reason did he_ really_ have not to believe that Prompto had fallen out of love with him? It was completely possible that he had. Sure, after ten years apart and being on their own, it was easy to fall back into old habits, and just enjoy the familiarity and safety of their relationship, of being close to one another. But maybe for Prompto, those feelings of desire weren’t based on love—merely nostalgia. And since that was far from the case for Noct, he knew he had to let Prompto go. Prompto had made his choice, had walked away. Now Noctis had to work on figuring out who he was without him, just as Prompto had done all those years ago.

* * *

“Parry,” Gladio instructed, getting more irritated by the minute at how severely Noctis was failing to listen. He continued to whack at Gladio’s giant blade, both colliding repeatedly, but with Noctis never taking the advantage to use Gladio’s weight against him and deflect the attack.

“Come on! You gonna fight me or not? I said parry!” Gladio hollered, before taking his own advice and shoving the younger man backwards, making him lose his balance. Noctis landed on his rear with an exaggerated groan, glaring up at his Shield before scrambling to his feet, rubbing his backside.

“The hell is wrong with you?” Gladio grumbled, watching as the pouting king meandered over to the weapons room.

“Don’t want to talk about it,” came Noct’s simple reply.

He set his training blade back on the shelf, wanting to blame its shape and size—which were far less familiar than the blades he was used to—but he’d used them enough growing up to know that they were perfectly balanced for any beginner. His inability to fight properly was purely due to his current mood, and a mind full of thoughts that he would prefer to forget if he could.

“You hear there was another threat against you? Someone graffitied something nasty about you on a wall in Lestallum,” Gladio went on. Noctis didn’t even blink at the news. He’d overheard Iris and Ignis discussing something of the sort in the hallway earlier that morning, but being as out of sorts as he was lately, he figured Ignis was simply trying to spare him the bad news.

“Don’t want to talk about it,” Noct repeated, turning to see Gladio leaning against the training room door, arms folded.

“Prompto missed his guard duties a few times this week. He didn’t report to his post. You know anything about that?”

Noctis flinched at the mention of his friend, but his face was quickly taken over with a frown.

“Why would I?” he asked, darkly.

“Because you’re grumpy as hell, and he’s M.I.A. Makes me wonder if the two are related.”

“Hmph. You can expect very few things involving me and Prompto to be related anymore. He says... Nevermind,” Noctis sighed, pushing past Gladio with a dismissive wave of his hand. Two giant steps ahead of him—as Gladio was always trained to be—he jutted out a muscular, tattooed arm, stopping Noct in his tracks.

“He says what? Spill.”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you,” Noctis scowled, reaching for Gladio’s arm, but his attempt to push it out of the way was futile. Gladio merely pushed back.

“Then who are you gonna talk to? You just gonna bottle things up as usual? Come on, Noct. I thought you grew up,” Gladio grumbled, targeting one of Noct’s weak spots instantly, and watching as his frown twitched and fell away.

Noct’s mind flashed back to that night in Altissia, when he’d told Prompto about his fears of not having grown up enough during his time in the crystal; as hard as it was to believe, even after four days of mulling over their last conversation, he supposed those days of confiding in him were over.

His head drooped, his eyes focusing on the ground rather than his Shield. He maintained a loose grip on Gladio’s arm, for moral support if nothing else. He pulled his lips inside his mouth, wetting them enough to speak—or at least stalling long enough to think of how he was going to address the matter.

“Prompto says the feelings aren’t there anymore. For _him_, at least,” Noctis divulged, despite the painful lump in his throat.

Gladio was relieved Noctis wasn’t looking up to meet his eyes because he didn’t think he could hide the look of pure shock on his face. The night he had gone out for drinks with Prompto and the guys, Prompto had seemed devastated by the possibility that he was ruining his relationship with Noct. Had that really changed? He doubted it. Knowing Prompto, he had pulled away after telling Noctis of his condition. Or maybe Noct had been an ass about it, had said something insensitive. Gladio didn’t think Noctis would have been anything but supportive, but who was he to say for sure? They’d all had their own ways of dealing with the difficult news.

“I have to say, I really don’t think that’s true, Noct. You know he’s been through hell. You’ve been supportive through this whole thing, right?” Gladio asked.

Noctis paused, recalling all the moments he’d been there for Prompto when he’d needed him—from healing his injuries to kissing away his tears, and whispering to him that everything would be alright. What more could he do, without opening himself up for a world of hurt and rejection?

“I’ve certainly been trying,” Noct sighed, and he let his hand fall from Gladio’s arm.

With a stretch above his head, he headed for the bench to gather up his sweatshirt and phone. Gladio followed, watching as Noct clicked the button on his device to see if there were any missed messages, and shut it off with a look of longing when there were none. He pulled his hoodie on, and was about to head for the exit when Gladio spoke up.

“He loves you, Noct,” he stated, voice and eyes serious, as if he were trying to convey something much more dire. Noctis would bet Gladio would have done well as a politician if it weren’t for that temper of his, for those eyes and that tone could have convinced even the most stubborn men of anything.

“How do _you_ know?” Noct dared to ask, tilting his head to the side in curiosity, but there was a wariness about him too; he wasn’t positive he wanted to know. Even if he did love him, it wouldn’t change Prompto’s resolve, would it?

“You know all those pictures he took of you on our journey? He put them all into a slideshow, added music and effects and everything, and played it at the graveyard on your birthday last year. The tenth year after you were gone. He’d told me and Iggy he’d done something extra special this time in your honour. It wasn’t until we’d gotten there that we found out what it was. It was beautiful, Noct. He put so much care and detail into it,” Gladio said, his expression almost pained now, as if the memories of it were still strong enough to induce emotion.

Noctis pressed his lips hard together as he pondered what that slideshow might have been like. He wondered which memories Prompto had chosen as his favourites, which tune he had chosen to represent them and their time together.

“Does he... still have it?” he carefully queried, not wanting to sound as desperate to see the thing as he felt.

“I have a copy. I asked him to send it to me. I can text it to you later. My phone’s upstairs,” Gladio said, meeting Noctis’ hesitant eyes.

“Do you think he’d mind me seeing it?”

“Well,” Gladio hummed, folding his arms again and shifting his weight to rest mainly on one leg. “I don’t think he imagined you ever would in person, but I think part of him believed that if you had somehow passed away in the crystal, you would be watching over him as he played it for you. So, I guess in a sense, he did want you to see it. He did make it for _you_.”

Noctis nodded numbly. It was sickening to imagine what grief Prompto must have endured after he’d been taken by the crystal. He hated to think what he himself would have done if their positions had been reversed. If Prompto had disappeared and he’d been unable to save him, he was pretty sure he’d still be suffering. He would still feel guilty, powerless, unworthy. He wondered if Prompto felt the same.

“Yeah. Text it to me when you can.” Noctis’ phone dinged a second later, and he whipped it out of his pocket, hoping to see a certain blond glaive’s name lighting up the screen, but instead, it was his advisor's.

“Gotta go. Ignis says he’s got something important to tell me,” Noct said, trying not to huff. The last thing he wanted to do was discuss Citadel matters. His heart just wasn’t in it, and neither was his mind.

“Probably about the graffiti?”

“Probably. Thought he was going to spare me the details, but I guess not.”

“Well, good luck,” Gladio grunted, crossing the room to collect his sword and train some more, while Noct pushed open the heavy double-doors and exited the training room.

* * *

Ignis was waiting for him when he reached the basement of the Citadel. As he stepped off the elevator, the dim lighting and dank smell reminded him of his fear for this place as a child. It was so much colder than the levels above, and although it was designed similarly to the rest of the building, it hadn’t been cleaned and cared for the same way. There were cracks in the walls from the weight of the Citadel’s tall structure, and the tile floor was barely recognizable as the same flooring above, thanks to its good layer of dust and dirt.

“What’s up?” Noctis asked, passing the large wooden shelves—which ran from floor to ceiling on either side of the hallway. They were at least ten feet wide, and held several types of preservatives and alcoholic beverages. At the end of the shelves, on the left wall, was a giant metal door with a turning crank, similar to those Noctis and his friends had encountered deep within Eos’ dungeons. This was the vault. This was where all his father’s money, treasures, and riches lay.

“Oh! Talcott!” Noctis beamed, noticing the young man who had been standing behind Ignis as he’d approached.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Your Majesty,” Talcott smiled, moving to bow, but Noctis pulled him into a hug before he could. Talcott grinned proudly as the king stepped away.

“How have you been? How has life in Lestallum been treating you?”

“Very well, thank you, Your Majesty. We have successfully restored power to all of Eos. Holly is still working out the last few bugs and glitches in the system, but things are very much under control.”

“Glad to hear it. Just remember, you’re always welcome here at the Citadel, if you ever wish to return. After everything you’ve done for us, I promise, I would find you a position you and your grandfather would be proud of,” Noctis smiled, softly.

“That means a lot, Your Majesty. Thank you,” Talcott bowed, hand over his heart.

“Now, to business,” Ignis interjected.

“Yeah,” Noctis sighed, placing his hands on his hips and staring up at the giant safe.

“You bringing me down here is making me worry. What’s going on?”

“We’re having an issue accessing the late King Regis’ funds,” Ignis announced.

“What do you mean?” Noctis asked, throat suddenly dry.

“After your request for me to retrieve money from your father’s vault for the relief efforts in Galahd and Altissia, the Marshall and I were unable to crack the code on this lock,” Ignis said, waving a hand toward the enormous circular lock, its numbers looking suddenly daunting as they ran around its circumference.

“That’s easy. The code was always his birthday. 09-28-06,” Noctis announced.

“We’ve tried it.”

“Maybe he changed it. Try… my birthday? 08-30-35,” Noctis said, as if Ignis didn’t already know the date.

“We’ve tried that as well, along with several other possible combinations,” Ignis lamented, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, and holding them there even as he lowered his head.

“Which is why I’m here, Your Majesty. Sir Ignis asked me to bring along my grandfather’s journal in hopes that there might be some other ideas we could try,” Talcott explained.

“Well, I guess any clues could help, huh? Thanks, Talcott. So, what does this mean, if we can’t access my dad’s funds? Is there anything I can do for those places right now?” Noctis asked. Ignis sensed Noct was looking at him again, and he raised his head to address him, his brows twitching in distaste as he prepared to deliver the news.

“How do I put this? Your own funds have… dried up. With the repairs to the city and the donations to other parts of Eos, I’m afraid there’s nothing to spare, unless you want your glaives and staff going hungry,” Ignis said, the words nearly knocking the air out of Noctis’ lungs. He stood stunned for a long moment, just staring at Ignis as if he might eventually say he was kidding. The joke never came.

“Are you serious? Things are _that tight_?!” Noct asked, trying not to panic, but it was difficult.

“I’m afraid we didn’t monitor your financial situation carefully enough, especially when we were banking on being able to use some of your father’s wealth to get Lucis through this tough time,” his advisor went on, sounding apologetic, but Noctis was trying hard not to lose his cool. How could he and the council be so careless? ‘Sorry’ didn’t fix this.

“So, what do I do now? Did _any _provisions make it to Galahd?”

“Yes, the first bundle of provisions, which included food and water, was delivered not long after you were in Galahd with Prompto. The lumber you requested to repair some of the structures there, however, requires additional funds, which we had hoped could come from your father’s treasury, but... Well, that’s where we stand now,” Ignis sighed, waving blindly towards the locked door. Noctis eyed it with disdain and irritation.

Libertus had told him he couldn’t win the people over with a few gifts, and yet that was all he was able to do. If he didn’t send enough, would the people lose even more faith in him? His stomach turned as he thought about the way he and Prompto had taken off after the attack. The townspeople probably weren’t pleased either about the way their ‘glaive help’ had suddenly disappeared without warning. His relief efforts were lacking—even he couldn’t deny that, despite how much he wished things were different—and he hated that his actions, or lack thereof, would reflect poorly on him. But like Prompto had assured him, he hadn’t had a choice; it was more important that they got out of there safe and alive.

“So, how do we keep afloat until we crack the code?” Noct grumbled, arms folded.

“I would prefer to discuss this properly with the council at a later time, but…”

“No. I don’t want rumours going around that I can’t even support my own staff. We’re discussing this now,” Noctis declared, and Ignis gave a sigh, even his perpetually stiff posture sagging slightly.

“The quickest and most logical way to start earning is to raise the taxes on the land,” Ignis announced.

“You think the people can afford that right now?! The world is recovering from a crisis! If I raise the taxes, it’s only going to provoke more hate for the crown, and more people saying that I can’t do my job!” Noctis practically hollered, his voice hoarse and breaking. He saw Talcott lower his head and take a step back, and hated that this outburst had to happen in front of him.

“I understand, Noct, but we’ve got limited options.”

“What about hunts?” Noct asked, quickly. “The daemons may be gone, but what about the violent or rabid wildlife? Could we send glaives to do hunts, and bring back the rewards?”

“Hunts were never a huge source of gil, Noct,” Ignis reminded him, coarsely. “And I don’t know that this will do much for your image. If your glaives go and claim the rewards for hunts, won’t it look like you are taking money directly from the towns that advertised them?”

“It’s not like average citizens can take on the hunts themselves,” Noctis argued.

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, I must agree with Ignis. I’m afraid the citizens of Eos will see you in a negative light if you do this. It will look like you’re taking money directly from these poorer cities for your own benefit, and as far as anyone else knows, your wealth is plentiful,” Talcott spoke up, though he still appeared wary to do so. Noctis kept his expression firm and unchanging.

“Not if the glaives remain undercover. If they dress like ordinary citizens, then maybe…”

“Don’t forget, a lot of people might recognize your glaives, as many people came together during those dark days,” Ignis said.

“But it’s the best plan we’ve got for now. Besides, it’ll only be temporary,” Noctis announced, before giving a knock on the metal door that echoed at a deafening volume.

“Hey, Talcott. Keep trying to crack this code, will you?” he said, with a nod at the young man before heading back to the elevator.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Talcott whispered.

* * *

Prompto woke with a start at the sound of his door creaking open. He bolted up, sitting in his bed and staring across the room at his intruder. Gladio stood there looking unimpressed, and he rolled his eyes as he turned to the girl behind him.

“No worries. He _is_ just ignoring everybody,” he huffed.

Prompto rubbed his eyes to get a clearer picture of Fae in the background, looking rather tired and concerned, though she kept her gaze on the ground, rather than anywhere near Prompto. She hadn’t wanted to invade his privacy, but after knocking several times over the past four days and never getting an answer, she was beginning to assume the worst.

“It’s not nice to ignore your friends,” Gladio scolded, and Prompto let out a heavy sigh, not caring if Gladio heard it. He pushed the covers off of himself, and swung his legs over the side of the bed, not fully trusting that they would carry him where he wanted to go. Still, he pushed his weight onto them, and wandered around to the front of the bed, taking a seat on it.

He was still half dressed from the night before—his leather glaive pants, which surely weren’t meant to be sleepwear, and a white tank. His hair was a mess, his face bearing a good few days’ scruff. The two in the doorway hadn’t even thought it possible for Prompto to grow that much facial hair.

“You’re welcome to come in. Not you, Gladio. Pretty sure you just broke the lock on the door,” Prompto grimaced, hands resting on his knees as he remained perched on the end of the bed.

“Can’t anyway. Iggy called and said he had a situation with Noct. Gotta go calm him down before he ends up whooping his royal ass, but—” Gladio said, looking behind him to find Fae again. “_She_ might want to visit, make sure you’re really alright.”

Fae’s eyes flickered up to nervously meet Prompto’s, and he gave her a nod of approval. Gladio walked off as she entered the room, her feet guiding her warily to the chair at Prompto’s desk. His room smelled musky, like he’d been spending a lot of time in here and hygiene hadn’t been his top priority.

Fae’s gaze wandered to the photo atop the desk—of Noctis, Gladio, Ignis, and Prompto—which lay next to a black picture frame without any glass in it. Stuck to the frame was a note that she assumed was written in Noctis’ handwriting. As far as she knew, he would be the only one in here when Prompto wasn’t.

‘_I’m sorry about the frame. I’ll replace it.’_

“What’s up?” Prompto asked, when her gaze had lingered on the frame a little too long. He didn’t want to start answering questions about it; the last thing he wanted to talk about was how he’d disappointed Noct to the point of making him destroy his things. He knew the frame had been broken out of anger, and perhaps rightly so.

Fae’s attention flew back to Prompto and she swallowed hard.

“Okay, you can’t scare me like that. I thought you were dead in here,” she said, failing to hide the panic in her voice.

“Why would you think that?” Prompto chuckled, but Fae gave him a disbelieving look. She couldn’t believe he’d just gone there.

“You know why. The whole MT thing?” she went on, and Prompto raised a finger to his lips, shushing her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, as Prompto hurried to the door and closed it. “Don’t all your friends know now?”

Prompto resumed his position on the edge of the bed, his fingers weaving tightly together, and pulling at each other awkwardly.

“I... I didn’t tell Noct.”

“What? But you told Ignis and Gladio—“

“I know. And I don’t know why, but I just... couldn’t do it. And then Iggy said these things that made me think... it’s probably for the best if he doesn’t know.”

“How many times do we have to go over this?” Fae shook her head in disbelief, looking utterly displeased with this figure she’d looked up to so much. He looked defeated now, his shoulders curled in on himself, his tired, scruffy face making him look about ten years older than he was.

“No more, I promise. There’s a ball that’s happening in Accordo, where they’re looking to match Noct up with some potential mates. I told him he should go.”

“I don’t know _why_,” Fae said, her worried eyes boring into Prompto’s. He merely smiled, and reached out to ruffle her hair.

“And _I _don’t know why I’m bogging a kid down with such heavy stuff like this. I shouldn’t be,” he said, apologetically, but the girl pushed his hand away immediately.

“I’m not a kid,” she frowned. “And I’m only doing this because…” She trailed off, wanting to say she cared about him, and wanted the best for him, but her poor heart wouldn’t let herself become that vulnerable. She decided to share the best wisdom she had, the memories that had caused her deepest regrets.

“You never know when you’re going to have your last moment with someone. If I’d known how little time I would get with my sister… I never would have fought with her so much,” she admitted, voice weakening, gaze wandering toward the window. The window’s light illuminated her sad features, but Prompto knew how unlikely it was that she would let her guard down enough to cry.

“You’re the closest thing I’ve had to a guardian since my parents died. I always had to fend for myself, and I was okay with that until you showed me that I didn’t have to shut myself off from everyone else. I know you’re suffering, and I know that I’m going to lose you too one day, but that just makes me want to do everything I can to make sure you don’t have regrets when that day comes,” she explained, and when she looked back at Prompto, she was startled by the soft look of surprise in his eyes. They stared at her in admiration, in wonder, and she pushed herself to continue.

“King Noctis makes you happy. Don’t shut yourself off from him,” she finished, giving him a small smile that she suspected he needed. Prompto smiled warmly at her and closed his eyes, soaking up her kind words.

“Thanks, Fae. That means a lot.”

Another knock at the door broke the serenity of the moment, and Prompto ran a hand shamefully over his scraggly beard as he headed over to let their next guest in, hoping it wasn’t someone who was going to judge him for his current appearance.

“Talcott! No way! Long time, no see, buddy!” Prompto grinned, pulling the kid into a one-armed embrace that Talcott awkwardly laughed at while trying to somehow reciprocate it. He smiled softly as Prompto let him go and took a step back. Fae turned in her seat to see the young man in the dark hunter’s vest and Hammerhead ballcap.

“Hello, your Highness. Glad to see you again.”

“Uh… Highness? _Me_?” Prompto asked, with a curious tilt of his head.

“O-oh, I— I thought you and his Majesty were… Nevermind. My apologies,” Talcott stammered, reddening slightly. Prompto gave him an encouraging smile. It was likely that a lot of people would assume he and Noctis were a couple now, given their history.

“No apology necessary,” Prompto assured him, waving his hands. “So, what’s going on?”

“His Majesty has ordered a meeting for all glaives to attend. Something to do with a mission for hunts,” Talcott said, never letting on that he knew more details than he was dishing out.

“Hunts? Okay,” Prompto said, with a quizzical brow, not quite understanding. He looked back at Fae, giving her a coaxing nod to come and join them at the door, as glaive business included her as well. She came to stand beside Prompto, watching Talcott carefully as he spoke again.

“You are to meet with the Marshall and Sir Gladio in the training room in twenty minutes. They will brief you on the situation,” Talcott explained.

“Great. Thanks, Talcott,” Prompto said, with a thumbs-up.

“You’re welcome, Sir Prompto.”

“Seriously, just Prompto is fine,” he grinned.

Talcott nodded to dismiss himself, but wasn’t about to address Prompto any less formally. He was one of the highest ranking Kingsglaive, and even if not currently the apple of the king’s eye, he still deserved the utmost respect.

As he headed back down the hall, Prompto strolled past Fae to retrieve his Kingsglaive jacket from his closet. She smirked as he reappeared at the door, and she held an arm out, barring the way.

“Do yourself a favour. Shower and shave before you go.”

“Right,” Prompto grinned, waving a finger at her in agreement as he waltzed toward the bathroom.

* * *

The meeting was confusing, and left Prompto wondering why Noctis would order such a large number of glaives to complete hunts. It seemed like there were just enough glaives to cover all posts and shifts, and Prompto couldn’t help but feel security around the Citadel should have been Noct's first priority after the attacks they’d endured during their short voyage away. It was these concerns that forced him to track down Ignis, despite how much his words from the other night still stung his heart.

He eventually found him in a hallway with Cor—probably being filled in on the events of the meeting. Prompto approached with caution, not wanting to intrude, but Cor waved him forward.

“Hey, I just thought I should bring you the photos I took of that guy who shot at Noct and I in Galahd,” he announced, phone clutched tightly in his hands. He felt a little guilty for not bringing them sooner, but he hadn’t exactly been in a good state of mind.

“Oh, yes. Thank you, Prompto. Perhaps you and Monica could take a look at them, Marshall?” Ignis asked.

“Of course. If you forward them to me, Prompto, I can take a look right away. Perhaps you would join us, and give us your insight?”

“Yes, sir,” Prompto nodded, with a small smile.

“Perfect. I will find Monica and meet you in the Conference Room.”

“Sounds good.”  
  
Prompto’s smile faded as he was left alone with Ignis. The tension in the air between them left a sour taste in his mouth. When Ignis said nothing, Prompto decided there was no pressure on him to say anything either, so he turned to leave, but was stopped by a murmur of his name.

“You don’t need to worry about Noct and I anymore,” Prompto announced, keeping his back to the advisor.

“Prompto, what you and I talked about—”

“I broke things off.” The words hung in the air, the silence seeming so foreign in the normally loud and echoing hallway. “It’s like you said, right? It’s better for his sake.”

Never even bothering to look back, Prompto strode off down the hall.

He made it to the Conference Room in record time, the adrenaline from his pain and frustration making his legs move faster than he would have thought possible. He was glad he raced Cor and Monica, as it gave him time to breathe and decompress before they entered. He messaged the photos to Cor, and when he and Monica arrived, they brought large prints of the photos to properly analyze them. They all sat close together, and got to work.

Each of them took their time looking over the photos, scanning them for important details. As Prompto analyzed one of the photos, he noticed a black, cloth bandana wrapped around the shooter’s wrist. Prompto remembered seeing similar souvenirs in Lucian gift shops way back before Insomnia’s fall, each decorated with the symbol of the Lucian royal family.

Thinking quickly, he grabbed his phone out of his pocket and brought up the same photo.

He moved his fingers across the screen, zooming in on the bandana until he could see small red lines of paint smeared across the skull’s empty eyes and mouth.

“H-hey, look at this,” he said, trying not to shiver at the sight. Cor and Monica leaned in to peer over his phone, taking note of the part of the image that Prompto had enlarged. “Noct and I saw this same symbol graffitied near a bridge in Altissia. Do you think... these attacks could be related?”

“Hmm, if they are indeed the same symbol, then perhaps they are. What are _your _thoughts, Marshall?” Monica asked, looking up from Prompto’s phone, and peering past him to look at Cor.

“The resistance could be using this as a universal symbol to identify themselves. It’s possible that the majority of resistance members could belong to one large group, rather than smaller ones from different regions,” Cor elaborated.

“Butchering the royal family’s symbol definitely makes it seem like they’re targeting the Lucian line, though, right?” Prompto asked, swallowing hard as he felt himself fearing yet again for his king’s safety.

“It seems that way. Despite the king’s success in bringing back the light, he has yet to regain the trust he lost both before and during his years in the crystal,” Cor went on.

“Prompto, I will pass these photos along to Miss Amicitia, and see if she can find any other information on this symbol,” Monica assured Prompto, having noticed the look of worry on his face.

“Y-yeah. Hopefully Iris will find something,” he agreed, blinking as he brought his thoughts back to the current moment. He pushed forth a smile, and got to his feet as Cor and Monica did. Cor put a gentle hand on Prompto’s shoulder, making the younger man look up at him curiously.

“We _will _find out who is behind these acts, Prompto. We will all see to it that the king does not come to harm,” he vowed.

Prompto nodded, somehow maintaining his shaky smile. It was reassuring to know that there would always be people to care for Noct, even long after he was gone. And right now, he could still play his part in protecting him, too. That was incentive enough to keep on keepin’ on.

* * *

Noctis was on his way back from his supper in the dining hall when he spotted Prompto waiting for the elevator in the lobby. He wasn’t sure whether or not he should approach him after their previous encounter, but once Prompto looked up and caught his eye, too, he figured avoiding him would only make the tension worse. Timidly, Noctis proceeded down the hall and stood beside him, waiting patiently for the elevator to arrive.

“I’m really sorry about the picture frame. Did you get my note?” Noctis asked, though both of them continued to stare up at the number display on top of the elevator, never daring to make eye contact.

“I got it. Thanks. It was a cheap frame anyway,” Prompto assured him, earning a glance from Noctis.

“H-hey, you lost the goatee,” Noct stuttered out, not sure himself whether he was more surprised or disappointed.

Prompto put a hand to his chin, feeling the bare skin there. With all the scruff he’d had to get rid of in the process of shaving, it had been useless to try and salvage it. Might as well start from scratch.

“Oh, y-yeah. I was starting to look pretty rough around the edges,” he chuckled, softly, breathing a sigh of relief when their floor number finally lit up and the doors opened.

“Well, I was really starting to like the scruff, but you look good. Like the old you.”

Both stepped inside, still maintaining a good foot of distance between them once Noctis generously pressed the buttons for both his and Prompto’s floors.

Noctis stood with his arms in front of him, one hand clasped around his opposite wrist in what looked like a regal stance; he was just glad Prompto couldn’t see how white and tense his knuckles were under his long cuffs. Prompto leaned awkwardly against the wall behind him, hands continuously readjusting themselves against his waist, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

“So, I’m leaving tomorrow to take on some of those hunts you wanted done,” Prompto announced, unintentionally pulling Noctis’ gaze straight to him like a fish on a line.

“You are? I mean, that request wasn’t meant for you. I should have specified, but it wasn’t for the higher-level glaives like you, Gladio, and Ignis,” Noctis explained, his brows slanted in what was quite possibly disappointment.

Prompto tried not to think about the twinge he felt in his heart at the thought that Noctis was already missing him, and he hadn’t even left yet. But that was why it was good not to get attached, right? If he got in too deep with Noctis, whenever tragedy decided to strike, Noctis would miss him even more, wouldn’t he? Prompto shuddered at the thought of Noctis longing for him, crying for him, mourning for him.

“Oh, really? Well, it’s okay. I want to help you—er, _Lucis _out as much as I can,” he said, just as the elevator dinged at his floor.

He gave Noctis a tiny, somewhat guilty smile and a shrug as he ducked out of the opening doors, but to his surprise, he felt the man at his side, following him. Even Noctis couldn’t say why exactly he had chosen to follow; it was just an instinct. Wherever one of them went, the other followed. It had been that way since high school ‘til the day they were separated by Ardyn.

They walked in silence until they reached Prompto’s room, both waiting for the other to say something, and realizing that neither one of them knew which words would fix this gap between them. As Prompto reached for the key to his room and unlocked the door handle, he wondered if Noctis was hoping he would change his mind about what he’d said. Was he hoping to be invited inside? Was he hoping they were going to make up?

“Noct, those things I said… I’m sorry that I hurt you,” Prompto said, allowing his eyes to flicker to the side and meet his friend’s sad ones. They bore the same pain that Prompto’s did.

“I’m just sorry that things changed, but if this is what you want, then I’m going to learn to be okay with it,” Noctis vowed, but Prompto remained stuck on those words. He had to _learn _to be okay with it, which meant he absolutely wasn’t okay with it right now, and that made Prompto ache inside.

“Thank you,” Prompto nodded, giving Noct a small, but sincere smile, despite the crease that was still between his brows. He looked so much older in that moment, his smile full of so many mixed emotions that only an adult could convey. The smiles of the young Prompto he’d once known would never have contained that pain, that silent understanding, that look of apology and gratitude instead of pure happiness.

Prompto pushed the door open, and gave a nod to his friend, silently thanking him for accompanying him to his room. It was meant to be goodbye, but Noctis reached a hand out for his shoulder, letting it rest there cautiously, like he was half-scared the gesture might be shrugged off. To his satisfaction, Prompto remained still, his head turning back to look at him in quiet curiosity.

“For what it’s worth, no one would ever compare to you, Prom. That’s why, if I have any say in the matter, I’m not going to Accordo, or anywhere else to become someone’s suitor,” Noctis said, softly, and he watched Prompto’s brows twitch upward with emotion. There was a long pause before Prompto managed to say anything.

“Why?” he eventually choked out.

“I’m not going to settle for just anyone to rule at my side. My father ruled alone. If I can’t have you, I will do the same,” the king went on, giving Prompto a smile that was filled with as much sadness as it was pride and determination.

Prompto searched his friend’s gentle eyes, and tried to figure out where the angry Noctis from the other day had gone. In his place was only this calm, soft-spoken Noctis, this strong king with an iron resolve, and he seemed content—content with where and who he was, confident in his decision.

“That’s… setting you up for an awfully lonely life, don’t you think?” Prompto asked weakly, allowing himself to turn back toward Noctis. Although part of him still wanted to run from this conversation, the other part of him really wanted to know Noctis’ answer to this question, because it was a vital part of why he had been keeping himself from Noct in the first place.

“Life is short. This whole thing with the crystal made me realize that… you never know when you’re going to be whisked away. I would rather live with my dearest friends close by me than to rule alongside someone that I may never truly love. Not in the way I loved you, at least,” Noctis said, and Prompto felt another pang of guilt in his heart.

“I just want to enjoy my time here, my reign, and if this is the best way to do that, so be it. I just want us both to be happy.”

Prompto remained stunned for a long while, his expression remaining sad and pensive, unable to tear his eyes away from his king. He was still not used to how much wisdom Noct had gained in the crystal. He was so much more willing to speak his mind, so much more confident to give Prompto these long-winded speeches, and maybe it was because on the inside, he felt like he needed to. Maybe he was actually scared—so scared of losing Prompto that he used everything and every word at his disposal to try and keep him there. That’s what he’d been doing on their trip, and that’s what he was doing now, except for one thing. He wasn’t trying to win Prompto back anymore; he was _letting him go_.

That realization sparked a sickening sensation in Prompto’s stomach, and he wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it all. Making Noctis move on from him was supposed to have been a victory, but instead it felt so very much like a loss. If Noct stopped trying to make advances, then this fairytale really was over. There would be no more unexpected kisses or brushing of hands, no more heartfelt confessions or spur-of-the-moment dates. It was all over.

Prompto thought back to Galdin, the way it had felt to be so intimately close to Noctis, holding each other and kissing until the mist-covered sky faded to black. He thought about how safe he’d felt with him, despite all of their time apart, despite not knowing for sure how he would react to the news of his condition. He remembered soft lips on his shoulders, on his neck, on his own lips. He remembered gentle hands that he knew would never harm him.

He thought back to Zegnautus on their final night together before the crystal had taken Noctis. He could never forget that feeling of hope that had taken over him when he heard the sound of footsteps, and looked up to see his friends. He would certainly never forget that feeling of relief when he realized this wasn’t an illusion—when he saw Noctis’ frantic, worried face, and hands reaching to free him from the device that had trapped him for days. He would never forget the way Noctis held him that night as they slept, his arm draped protectively around his waist, and Prompto feeling like he had to capture this moment with his camera, just to prove that this was real, that he was safe, that Noctis loved him, that he was back where he belonged.

Noctis gently squeezed Prompto’s shoulder, which finally brought Prompto out of his trance. He gave a half-smile, and Prompto couldn’t decide whether joy or sadness was the dominating emotion in his eyes.

“Take care of yourself on those hunts,” he said, not in the loving murmur Prompto was used to, but rather in a tone that was meant for a king and his glaive.

And with that, he was gone, giving Prompto one last glance at the doorway before he strode down the hall. Prompto didn’t follow, didn’t call out, didn’t do anything. He merely continued to stand there, paralyzed by the fear that he had just made a terrible mistake.


	9. Man on a Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger warning - There is a brief allusion to sexual abuse the second scene of this chapter, so please skim over it if you need to. Thanks!

Noctis had forgotten how beautiful the city of Insomnia could be, all lit up at night. Dots of purple, yellow, orange, red, and blue burned brightly in the distance, lighting up the silhouettes of buildings and homes that the king himself had helped rebuild with money from his own pocket. He was thankful for the money his father had put aside for him, for the job he’d had as a teenager that helped build his wealth, for the hunts he and his friends had taken on during their journey to earn that little bit of extra cash. It all added up. It all helped.

Noctis brushed the curtain a little further aside with the back of his hand, holding it there and tilting his head to rest against the window. He couldn’t ignore that unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach that had come during his earlier meeting with Ignis and Talcott, and had never since left. What would he do now that he had run out of his own funds, and couldn’t access his father’s? There were still homes, and buildings, and bridges that needed to be rebuilt. There were still parts of the Citadel itself that were under construction. Would he even be able to finish paying the workers?

He hated the thought of having to raise the taxes on the land. The people of Insomnia had lost everything all those years ago, and all Noctis wanted to do was make their city safe and comfortable for them. How could he make them feel welcome when their homes basically came with giant price tags? The hunts he was about to send his glaives on wouldn’t come near covering what he needed to finish rebuilding Lucis, nor the other parts of Eos that were still recovering from the past ten years of damage. And yet, at this time, what else could he do?

The hunts. The glaives. Prompto. This predicament was making Prompto leave again. His heart wanted to dwell on this painful fact, but he wouldn’t let his mind linger there. He was sick of thinking about the falling out with Prompto, was sick of the aching hole in his chest and those nagging feelings of hurt and disappointment. He had to put it all to rest. Yes, maybe rest was the best thing he could do for himself right now. He couldn’t solve anything when he was overtired and nauseated from the constant worry.

With a sigh, he let his hand fall, and the curtain drifted back into place, covering up the sparkling city. He wandered over to his bed, switched off the lamp on his nightstand, and lifted up the covers. He sat down with one leg bent up campfire-style, and the other stretched out straight, maintaining the position as he lay down against the headboard, hands resting on the back of his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He breathed in deeply and let it out, remembering all the things his father had taught him when he was having trouble keeping his cool. He repeated the process, making himself focus on taking in long, steady breaths.

He was interrupted by a rather frantic knock on his door. Noctis’ eyes widened slightly at the noise. Who would be rapping on his door so loudly at this late hour of the night? There weren’t that many people who had clearance to be on his floor. Of course, it was probably just Ignis coming to tell him more bad news about the money or the kingdom. Or Gladio coming to growl at him for doing or saying something stupid earlier that day.

“Who is it?” Noctis groaned, deciding that if it was either one of them, that he would send them away until morning.

“It’s Prompto,” came a weak voice.

Noctis shot up in the bed, sitting there stunned for a moment as he tried to replay what he’d just heard. Was his mind playing tricks on him? He couldn’t risk ignoring this if it wasn’t.

Hurriedly, he got up and crossed the room to open the door. He was startled as he pulled it open, only to be gripped by shaking hands that curled around the backs of his shoulders. Prompto scooted inside the door, and leaned back against it to close it, pulling Noctis helplessly along for the ride. Noctis’ brain struggled to keep up with what was happening as one of Prompto’s hands rose to the back of his neck, and tangled itself in his long hair as Prompto pulled their lips together—hastily, desperately.

Without needing to think, Noctis kissed him back, his hands falling instinctively upon Prompto’s waist, and despite his confusion, he allowed his thumbs to stroke his sides gently. If nothing else, he hoped the small action might slow the urgency of the moment long enough for him to figure out what was going on.

“I lied,” Prompto tearfully whimpered, between kisses. “I never wanted you to go to Accordo and find someone else. I never wanted us to be apart. I love you, Noct. I love you.”

Noctis shushed him gently with a soft voice and a finger brushing delicately against his lips. Despite the closed curtains and lack of lights, the city still managed to illuminate the room with a dim, blue glow, and it was enough to allow Noctis to search Prompto’s features for clues as to what was happening. He analyzed the shimmers of tears on Prompto’s lower lids, the downward twitches that took over the corners of his mouth, the sorrowful look of pain and regret in his entrancing eyes.

Prompto tried to remember how to breathe. Noctis’ response was taking forever, his stoic expression impossible to identify... until he really let himself focus on his eyes. Noctis’ eyes had always spoke volumes even when he struggled with words. He wanted this moment as much as Prompto did—he could see that look of longing, of love—but why was he hesitating? Because of all the stupid things Prompto had said to keep him away? Because he had to earn back his trust?

“Please...” Prompto whispered, brows slanting even more in fear and sorrow. “Tell me I’m not too late.”

To his surprise, Noctis smiled softly, and shook his head. The hand that was at Prompto’s lips travelled back to cup his jaw instead, and Noct ghosted a thumb over his cheek. Prompto released a sob at the mere motion.

“You’re not too late,” he promised, and leaned in to capture Prompto’s lips, earning a whimper that was full of both pleasure and relief, both joy and pain.

Prompto tilted his head back against the door, allowing Noctis to move in closer, lips moving together quickly in a mass of quick, meaningful kisses. Prompto’s hand curled a little tighter around the back of Noct’s neck, while the other found the curve of his back, fingers rubbing tenderly. Noctis dared to push Prompto’s kingsglaive-issued tank up the slightest bit so that his thumbs could graze over skin, rather than fabric.

He moved in a little closer and Prompto released a muffled sound against his lips as more sensitive regions brushed together. Noctis let out a heavy breath in response, and moved against him again with a little more pressure. Prompto panted and tilted his head to part from Noct’s lips.

“The bed,” he whispered, eyes fluttering open to meet Noctis’. “C-can we?”

Noctis gave him a nod, and lips met again, hands keeping their bodies in place as they traversed the room. Noctis sat down near the head of the bed, and Prompto followed him. Lips continued to meet as they undressed themselves and each other in a frenzy.

Once all of their clothing had reached the floor, Prompto shimmied forward on his knees, his legs on either side of Noctis’ thighs. He tangled both hands into the back of Noctis’ hair as he lowered himself down to brush their groins together again. The noises they released at the contact this time were much louder, much more hoarse and desperate. Noctis’ hands were on Prompto’s lower back now, but he allowed one to travel further down, and fingers circled his entrance teasingly. To his surprise, he felt Prompto lean back against them, his back arching as he tried to coax them inside.

“Prompto, wait. It will hurt like that,” Noctis murmured, pulling back from their kisses with worried eyes.

“I don’t care.”

“Just wait, okay? We’ve got time.”

Noctis removed his hands and reached for his nightstand, retrieving the bottle of lubricant and coating his fingers with the substance. Once he was ready, he quickly set it aside and resumed his previous position, holding Prompto steady with a hand on his back as fingers began to push inside him. Prompto released a noise that was somewhere between a whimper and a sound of relief.

Noctis made sure Prompto looked comfortable before he closed his eyes again and resumed their kisses. Prompto’s breaths came out heavy as Noctis moved his fingers inside him, adding another one whenever he felt he was ready.

“Y-you now, okay?” Prompto asked, weakly, between kisses.

“Okay,” Noctis whispered, moving his hand from Prompto’s back to his face, and grazing a thumb tenderly over his cheek. He carefully removed his other hand next, earning a soft moan from Prompto as his fingers retreated.

Prompto continued to straddle Noctis as he coated himself with the lubricant, his hands threading gently through the back of Noctis’ hair as the man did his work. Finally, they were ready, and Noctis pulled Prompto in against him, manoeuvring them both towards the head of the bed, and kissing Prompto down to the mattress below him. He reached back, tugging the covers over them as Prompto raised his legs, and ever so gently, he pushed himself inside.

Both of them released soft sounds as they eased into the connection, both staring into each other’s eyes to soothe them, and confirm that everything felt the way it should. After a minute of letting themselves get used to the sensation, Noctis pulled back slightly before pushing back in. Prompto let out a shaky breath, and a nod of approval before reaching for the back of Noctis’ neck again, and pulling him in to kiss him. Noctis eased a hand under Prompto’s back, and moved again, beginning a gentle rhythm.

It wasn’t long before Prompto ended the kisses, and instead settled his head in between Noct’s neck and shoulder as Noct continued to move. His nose brushed against Noct’s collar, his arms weaving tightly around his neck, fists pressing into the backs of the king’s shoulders, clutching him like he was about to lose him. Noctis’ heart swelled at the familiarity of it.

He had always found it so adorable the way he did that, the way Prompto had always clung to him like a barnacle, never letting go until long after the height of the moment was over. He’d always recognized how vulnerable Prompto was in that state. He was letting his guard down completely, and trusted Noct enough to know he wouldn’t be rejected. And as the only soul who had ever loved and been loved by Prompto this way, Noctis felt blessed—blessed beyond belief.

Before long, Noctis could feel the heat in his stomach, and knew that his limit wasn’t far off. Prompto whimpered blissfully as Noctis reached for his length, stroking and pumping him along with his thrusts. The end came all too quickly for both of them, filling the room with a last bout of mewls and moans, and they remained there in that position, Prompto clinging to him like he was the last man on earth as they slowly caught their breath. Finally, Noctis pulled out, and Prompto let his head fall back onto the pillow.

Noctis leaned in to press a few last kisses to Prompto’s swollen, wet lips, meeting them slowly and tenderly now; they were his final attempt to make sure Prompto knew how extraordinarily much he was loved. When he retreated for a breath, he caught sight of a stiflingly sad look on Prompto’s face. His chin trembled like tears weren’t far off, and Noctis wished with all his heart that those were tears of joy, but his expression seemed to indicate otherwise.

With worry in his eyes, and the utmost tenderness, he reached for the side of Prompto’s face, his thumb brushing tenderly over the freckles that had faded with time. Carefully, he searched for those eyes to guide him. He needed to know what Prompto was thinking, needed to know why there were tears clouding those beautiful shades of blue and violet.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Noctis whispered.

The words were quite foreign to Prompto, but he was touched by the man’s confidence to call him by such a name, and his ability to be so gentle with him, even after everything Prompto had put him through. Hearing that Noctis loved him in that moment was enough—enough for Prompto to push aside that nagging reminder of the story he owed Noctis, enough for him to believe they could make it through whatever was to come… even after the truth came out, even after Noctis knew their time together was short.

Maybe he was a liar, maybe he was keeping Noct in the dark, but maybe everything would turn out okay because Noctis loved him. He believed in _Noct_. He believed in _them_.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, Noct,” Prompto assured him, finding his smile; it was small, but it was there, burning bright like a flicker of the sun that had always been enough to put Noctis at ease. Prompto lifted his head to meet his partner’s lips again, promising him his feelings were sincere.

“Everything’s perfect.”

* * *

“Ah, I’ve missed this,” Noctis sighed peacefully. His hand was laced with Prompto’s in the small space between their bodies, atop the soft sheets. There they lay on their backs, side-by-side, so calm, and relaxed, and happy, and Prompto could only think about how he could get used to this again—waking up with Noct’s nose nestled into the back of his hair, bodies pressed flesh together, and Noct’s arms holding him like he would never let go. Prompto never would have left that position, either, if he hadn’t wanted to kiss Noctis good morning so badly, but the best way to fulfill that desire had been to roll over and face him.

“Me, too,” Prompto agreed softly, inching his head over until it could rest against the king’s shoulder. They both stared up at the ceiling, still in disbelief of what had happened the night before, but it was a blissful, wonderful feeling.

“Really didn’t think it’d take so long to get you back into bed with me, but, hey... Better late than never, right?” Noct teased, smirking as he turned to press a kiss to Prompto’s slightly mussed hair.

“Maybe I just wanted to drive you crazy first,” Prompto chuckled, revelling yet again in the feeling of Noct’s nose against his hair, enjoying the closeness of it all.

“Well, you certainly did a good job of _that,” _Noct said, failing to hide the lingering ounces of irritation that Prompto had caused him over the past several months.

There was a sudden tension in Prompto’s body, and Noctis realized that statement might have hit him a little more harshly than he’d intended. Wanting to immediately right the wrong, he rolled onto his side to face Prompto, and gave the man’s hand a squeeze.

“I did tell you that you were well worth the wait, didn’t I?”

“Mm, not sure if you mentioned that,” Prompto hummed, feigning an innocent smirk, meeting Noct’s eyes now as the king leaned over him, lips hovering just inches above his own. He was certainly fine with Noctis reconfirming his worth, as many times as he so desired.

“Well, you were. You _are_,” Noct smiled.

Eyes closed as lips finally met, both feeling a sense of relief as they connected. Prompto curled a hand into the back of Noctis’ hair, tugging him closer, and knowing as Noctis’ arms moved in against his waist that he was exactly where he was supposed to be—where he _wanted _to be. Noctis loved him, and they deserved this chance for happiness, despite how short it might be.

He would tell him the truth eventually. He knew he had to, for he couldn’t let Noctis get any unrealistic notions in his head as far as their future was concerned, but telling him could wait; this wasn’t the time, nor place. This morning was all about enjoying the fact that they were finally together.

Prompto blinked as Noct pulled away from the kiss, but the coy gleam in the man’s eyes made it clear that he was far from done with him. Noctis manoeuvred himself to hover over him, his legs situating themselves on either side of Prompto’s as he eagerly leaned in to kiss his neck and jaw. Prompto tilted his head back to allow him more room, his breath quickening and hitching whenever something felt particularly good.

Noct travelled downward, his fingers grazing Prompto’s sides as he slid the covers down, revealing more skin. His lips followed suit, and quickly discovered unfamiliar territory. He halted abruptly, head pulling back to gaze upon a sight that was extremely disheartening to him.

“You got hurt? When... did this happen?” Noct asked, gently, his dark brows curving upward in worry.

One of his hands wandered from Prompto’s waist up to the three thick, grey lines that ran diagonally across the man’s stomach, the backs of his fingers ghosting over the raised skin so lightly it made Prompto shiver beneath him. Prompto stared up into tender, grey-blue eyes and swallowed hard as Noctis’ hand continued to graze his sizable scars.

“Five? Maybe six years ago? A coeurl kinda got its claws into me.”

“I’ll say,” Noct scoffed, eyeing the marks with disdain. He felt sickened at the thought of any monster digging into Prompto’s slender body like that.

He wondered whether he could have prevented this, if he’d been able to fight at Prompto’s side. They had always been so in-sync, always ready with a dose of healing whenever the other looked ready to drop. The injuries before him now didn’t look like they’d been tended to in a timely manner, as they were thick like the one that adorned Gladio’s chest. It seemed all of Noctis’ Crownsguard managed to get into the worst scrapes when they were apart.

“How come you didn’t notice these before?” Prompto asked, a smirk inching its way onto his face. Noct’s expression twisted into some sort of embarrassed pout.

“I was distracted. By your lips... among other things,” he rolled his eyes, and Prompto gave a hearty chuckle.

“Riiight.”

“I’m sorry,” Noct said, almost startling Prompto with how quickly his tone switched back to a serious one. His worried eyes returned to those scars, his fingertips running over the raised lines, while Prompto intently took in every move he made.

“For what?” Prompto asked, meekly.

“For not being there for you.”

Prompto pushed himself up on his elbow and reached forward with his other hand, his fingers sliding in to cup Noctis’ jaw.

“Hey, you have nothing to apologize for. Especially after the eight months of torture I just put you through,” Prompto murmured. “I wasn’t there for you, either. Call it even?”

He stroked Noctis’ beard with his thumb, smiling softly. Noct reached for his hand and guided it towards his lips, pressing a kiss to his palm, his eyes closing as he did, emphasizing the passion behind his action.

“Maybe. Once I’m done making it up to you here,” the king smirked.

He lowered his head again, and Prompto’s hand slipped around to the back of his neck, gripping gently as Noctis began pressing kisses along the long lines of scar tissue. Prompto whimpered contentedly, his grasp on Noctis tightening a little. Noctis smiled against his skin as he felt Prompto’s stomach muscles contracting under the movements of his soft lips.

Noctis was determined to make every bit of pain these wounds had given Prompto worth it in the end. Prompto was beautiful. These marks were beautiful, and they were proof that Prompto had fought to stay alive, proof that he believed in the future, whether or not Noct would return from the crystal, and Noctis was unspeakably proud of him for that.

“Noct,” Prompto hummed, loving every second of this gift far too much.

“Tell me, did you miss me?” Noctis whispered, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of Prompto’s stomach, making the young man’s breath hitch again.

“Of course, I did,” he exhaled, heavily.

“What sorts of things did you miss? What nasty little fantasies did you come up with while I was gone?” Noctis seductively purred, making it quite clear that he was willing to fulfill _whatever_ desires Prompto had, but Prompto simply reached for the pillow under his head and tugged it out, pressing it over his own face in embarrassment.

“Dude, you’re making it weird,” came a muffled whine from under the pillow.

“You want me to leave you alone?”

“Yes, please,” he squeaked, sounding so much like his younger self, it warmed Noctis’ heart. Prompto felt Noctis pull away from him and resume his position at his side. Prompto removed the pillow to see Noct giving him a gentle smile now, and he leaned in to give Prompto a quick peck on the cheek.

“Whatever pleases you,” Noct said, continuing to give him that tender smile. He gave his arms a good stretch above his head after that, giving Prompto some time to recover from the heat that had settled between his thighs and pinkened his normally pale cheeks.

He glanced at the clock. While 10:00am was late for most of the early risers in the Citadel, Noctis was a little impressed with himself to be awake before noon of his own accord. The excitement of having Prompto here with him was more than enough incentive to give up his slumber.

“Are you hungry?” the king asked, turning back to his companion. “I could go downstairs and bring us back some breakfast.” Prompto turned his head from where he lay on his back, eyeing Noctis with a curious frown.

“Don’t you have servants for that?”

“Well, yeah, but I don’t know who’s on duty this morning, and I didn’t know if we should raise suspicion by asking them to bring enough food for two,” Noctis explained, and Prompto nodded in agreement. Palace rumours probably wouldn’t help when they were just beginning to mend their relationship.

“Then, yeah, if you don’t mind going yourself.”

“I don’t, except...” Noct trailed off. His grey eyes locked onto Prompto’s, his bottom lip curling inside his mouth as he pondered, and Prompto felt like he was suddenly under scrutiny.

“Except what?” Prompto dared to ask, voice monotonous.

“I’m scared to leave you. I feel like you’ll be gone when I come back.”

Noctis looked honestly worried now, and perhaps rightly so. It had taken so long to get Prompto back where he belonged, so long to get him to stop shying away, it was only natural to fear that their reunion might be short-lived, that Prompto would flee when given the chance and return to his old habits.

“I promise, I won’t leave. I’m _so_ done hiding from you, Noct,” Prompto said, giving him a smile and reaching for his hand. He squeezed it affectionately, trying to further prove his vow, and eventually Noctis’ stoic expression softened back into a smile.

“What do you want to eat?”

“Surprise me,” Prompto grinned, and Noctis agreed by pressing one last kiss to his forehead. He pulled away very slowly, brushing his nose against Prompto’s in a loving little manner, his lips still curved gently upward and his eyelids drifting lazily open.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes,” Noctis murmured, before finally pulling himself away. He dressed himself quickly, finding yesterday’s discarded garments in various places of the room, then he exited the chamber, leaving Prompto still smiling to himself as he lay in the bed.

Prompto let out a peaceful sigh as he looked around the bedroom. It felt strange and a little awkward to be in this room that had once belonged to King Regis, but he hoped the former king would have been happy for them—for his beloved son, at least. He knew as well as anyone that King Regis had always wanted the best life for Noctis, and had wanted to see him happy even when it meant him leaving a life in the Citadel, and living as a ‘normal’ citizen of Insomnia in an apartment of his own.

The few times they had met, the King had been very kind and gracious towards Prompto, willingly accepting him into Noctis’ Crownsguard, praising him for his loyalty to Noctis, and in private, thanking him for filling a hole in Noctis’ life that no one else had ever been able to fill. He had been a kind man, so yes, Prompto had to believe he would have been happy about his and Noctis’ reunion.

Prompto rolled out of bed and headed for the ensuite bathroom, finding a large, square shower with spotless glass doors, a giant soaker tub, toilet, and double-sink. He chuckled softly to himself, certainly not used to this sort of luxurious environment. Any old bathroom would have sufficed; he simply wanted to freshen up a bit, but he supposed he could let himself indulge in this just once. He’d paid his dues during his years as a hunter, not finding a decent shower for days, or having to bathe in questionable lakes.

He was about to strip down and take a quick shower when he caught a glimpse of himself in the long, rectangular mirror that hung above the sinks, spanning the entire length of the wall and countertop. Bright red was a stark contrast to Prompto’s pale skin, and he frowned in dismay as he watched it dribble from his nose. Quickly he scrambled toward the toilet paper dispenser, and tore some of the tissue off, clumping it into a ball and pressing it to his nose, trying to stop the bleeding.

He hadn’t had a nosebleed in years, not since he was a kid, and while at first he thought little of it, the longer he held the tissues in place, the more his brain tried to come up with reasons of why this was happening. His stomach clenched painfully. What if this was a sign of his body beginning to break down? What if this was the beginning of the end?

Reaching a hand out to guide him, he found the edge of the tub and sat down, continuing to hold the tissue against his nose. There was so much regret that wanted to creep into his heart. He had kept himself from Noctis for almost a year now, by his own stupid choice, and all of that was time they could have spent together. What if the estimations were wrong, and the most they got now was a couple of months? Prompto scoffed, and scolded himself for thinking of such dreary possibilities.

He decided he should spend less time regretting the past, and focus on what was upon him now. Even after all the reasons Ignis had given him not to be with Noctis, hearing Noctis say all those things yesterday about letting go had still broken his heart. Coming to Noctis’ room the night before had been selfish, he supposed, but was he allowed to be selfish when he had limited time left? Was it still selfish to be with Noctis when Noct wanted to be with him, too? When Noct himself had voiced his concerns about how short life was?

In Galdin, Noctis had told him straight up that he didn’t care how much had changed, that he would take him in sickness or in health, and maybe he didn’t know just how important that vow had been in that moment, but Prompto still believed that whatever happened to him, Noct would stay by his side and help him through it. If he hadn’t abandoned him when he’d found out he was meant to be an MT, then no way would he ever abandon him, especially in such a sorry state.

Maybe Ignis and the council wouldn’t like it, maybe the world wouldn’t like it, but it wasn’t up to them; it was ultimately up to the king. And if the king wanted to be a little selfish, then maybe Prompto was allowed to do the same. Besides, it was only temporary. It could only ever be temporary.

“Prompto?”

Prompto gasped at the call of his name. He hadn’t heard Noctis come back, nor had he any idea how long he’d been lost in thought. Quickly, he got up from the side of the tub and hurried to the mirror, lowering the tissue to check the amount of blood flow, and hoping to make a quick exit without Noctis ever needing to know about this turn of events. To his dismay, a thin red stream trickled from his nose, and he tossed the old tissue in exchange for a new one.

“You okay?” Noctis asked, appearing in the doorway. Prompto turned to give him a halfhearted expression.

“Nosebleed,” he sighed.

Noctis entered the bathroom with an air of both calm and grace, and stood beside him at the mirror, reaching for his back and rubbing gently. His brows slanted in concern. As he gazed at the two of them in the mirror—Prompto in naught but his boxers, and himself in a t-shirt and slacks—his attention wandered from their less than regal attire to Prompto’s face, half-covered in white tissue.

“You feeling okay otherwise?”

“Y-yeah, why?” Prompto asked, meeting Noctis’ worried eyes.

“You’re just a little pale, that’s all,” the king replied, continuing the gentle motions of his hand against Prompto’s back.

Prompto stared hard at his reflection, searching for any little sign that he was sick, and yet dreading finding any. He was lacking a little colour, he supposed, but it was probably due to his not-so-cheery train of thought.

“Probably just a coincidence. You remember, I used to get these dumb nosebleeds all the time in school. They’re annoying, but harmless,” Prompto said, with a meek chuckle, but Noctis couldn’t help but note how it was anything but cheerful.

“Yeah, I remember,” Noct sympathized, recalling the dozens of times Prompto had had to rush out of the classroom to tend to them, even going back as far as elementary school. Noctis stared in the mirror at the sorrowful look on Prompto’s face, and knew he was beating himself up over this unavoidable interruption. Wanting to lighten the mood, Noctis spoke up again.

“Huh? What’s this?” he asked, poking at Prompto’s side. “Have… Have you lost some muscle since we were last together? So much for _gettin’ them gains_, huh?”

“What?!” Prompto’s face jutted towards the mirror as he analyzed his shirtless figure. He couldn’t really be going downhill this fast, could he? His body couldn’t be failing him now—not now that he and Noctis were finally back together. Noctis waved his hands, stopping him before he went into a full-on fit.

“Geez, you nerd. I was just kidding,” Noctis smirked, stepping behind him and slipping his arms around Prompto’s waist. He pressed a kiss to his cheek, which was puffed out to emphasize his pout. “If anything, you’re more toned than ever. And I’m finding you very, _very _attractive right now,” Noctis murmured into Prompto’s ear.

“Oh yeah. This bloody ol’ tissue is making me_ really _attractive,” Prompto rolled his eyes. The mood was ruined yet again by his growling stomach, and Noct laughed softly.

“Alright, first things first. Let’s get some food into your system. That might put some colour back in your cheeks,” he added, pushing forth a small smile and pressing a much more chaste kiss on Prompto’s face this time before pulling himself away.

Prompto nodded, and dared to lower his tissue again. This time, the blood appeared to have stopped, and he tossed the second tissue into the wastebasket beneath the sink. He turned on the taps and washed his face and hands before turning back to Noct, who had not yet left his side.

“Okay, sorry about that. If you still have an appetite after seeing me like that, then we can dig in.”

“You really don’t have to apologize. It’s not like you can help it. Besides, it’s gonna take a lot more than that to turn me off from_ you_,” Noct purred, taking him by the hands, and walking backwards as he led him into the bedroom.

They sat down on the bed together, sitting up against the headboard on their respective sides. Noctis reached for the tray that he had previously set down on his nightstand, and set it down atop their blanket-covered laps.

“I managed to snag us some pancakes. I got a dozen to split. Judging by how many I’ve been known to eat in a sitting, no one will ever suspect I grabbed enough for the two of us,” Noct smirked, proudly, holding a fork upright as he offered it to Prompto. Prompto took it, meeting his coy little stare.

“Perfect.” He pushed forth a smile that must have looked forced, for Noct continued to give him worried glances as he poured syrup over their breakfast.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Mm-hmm. Of course,” Prompto nodded, so many times that he was starting to look like a bobble-head figure.

Noctis eyed him suspiciously, but the suspicion lessened as Prompto stuck a fork into one of the top pancakes and tore off a little piece, contentedly popping it into his mouth. He seemed happy enough. Maybe Noctis was just being paranoid.

Noct grabbed his own fork, and cut off a sliver of one of the pancakes. He chewed it slowly, his attention fixed far more on the man beside him than breakfast. As amazing as last night had been, today Prompto still seemed nervous, like he was holding something back. Was it the same thing that had kept him from Noctis all this time? Noctis didn’t know what else could steal him from the bliss of being back together.

He didn’t want to push too hard, but felt he needed to at least start prying a little if they were ever going to get to the root of the problem. Maybe Noctis never needed to know in full, but he didn’t want to be so clueless anymore. Carefully, he chose a place to start.

“So, can I ask?” he started, cautiously, earning a curious glance from Prompto. That innocent look threatened to turn into a fearful one at the sight of Noct’s small frown. Prompto had half a mind to hightail it out of there, but instead, he remained frozen.

“What brought you here last night? What made you change your mind about us?” the king queried. Prompto let out the breath he was holding. That answer was an easy one; he didn’t even have to lie. He cut off another small triangle of pancake and swirled it around in the excess syrup Noct had poured onto their shared plate.

“All those things you said yesterday... They made me think I had lost you for good, and that really scared me,” Prompto admitted. “I know I’ve been acting weird since you got back, but I swear, that’s never what I wanted.”

Noctis watched him continue to play with his food, and he took a bite of his own pancake in hopes that Prompto might relax and do the same. He pondered those words, feeling rather baffled by them. How could Prompto not want to lose him for good, and yet had constantly put up a barrier whenever Noct was around him?

“What _did _you want?” he asked, quietly. “And you don’t have to answer that if you’re not comfortable.”

Prompto’s eyes flickered sideways to meet Noctis’. Noct’s head was low, his eyes timid and gentle as he peered up at him. Prompto was suddenly so grateful for this kind soul that was Noctis, this tender-hearted prince that—for some reason—fate had handed him.

“I don’t know. For things to feel normal again?” Prompto shrugged. It was the best response he could come up with, and at least it held some truth. He did want to go back to when he didn’t have to worry about his time running out, when he and Noct were just two silly teenagers in love.

“I guess I can understand that,” Noctis nodded. “Being apart for so long, having to fight for your life, moving into the Citadel,... it’s all an adjustment. I know you’re worried about what kind of impact our relationship will have on the kingdom, but we don’t have to announce anything right now. If things get serious, then we should at least tell our friends, but I want to take things slow until I’m sure you’re okay.”

“Huh? Until I’m okay?” Prompto asked, with a quizzical brow. Noct lowered his head a little more, looking rather timid.

“When I’m sure that whatever has been bothering you isn’t an issue anymore,” he explained. There was a look of deep care in his eyes, like he was vowing to take away those troubles that were plaguing Prompto’s mind.

“Oh.” Despite knowing that Noctis couldn’t fix everything, he still couldn’t help but give him a soft and grateful smile. Noctis seemed pleased enough to see anything other than sadness on his partner’s face, and he continued to eat his breakfast with a smile, feeling Prompto relax at his side.

“These are delicious. Who made ‘em?” Prompto asked, eyeing the bite that was currently on his fork before devouring it.

“One of the new cooks. Sadly, Specs is bogged down with more important jobs than preparing meals these days,” Noct sighed, not wanting to get into the particulars of what those jobs were, because they would only depress him—particularly the one involving his father’s money.

“Too bad. His were the best. But these are amazing, too,” Prompto said, managing a grin now. Honestly, he was happy, and he _wanted _to be happy. He was here with Noctis, in his bed, sharing his food, both of them feeling so light and giddy and in love. Life couldn’t get much better.

“So, listen… This is kind of hard for me to say. A-actually, it’s probably even harder on you, but I want you to know…” Noctis halted, his hand resting on the side of the tray, his fork at a standstill, hovering over one of the pancakes.

Prompto swallowed hard, not knowing what to expect. He felt like Noctis was trying to get closer to his secret, and he didn’t blame him, but he desperately wanted to enjoy this first morning of them being back together. Or maybe just the first _week_. Or maybe...

“I don’t know what Ardyn did to you, and just because you were okay this time and in Galdin doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll be okay _every_ time we try to—” Noct trailed off, eyes flickering meaningfully toward the bed, bringing all of Prompto’s other thoughts to an abrupt end.

“Uh, what?” Prompto asked, confused.

“I _mean_,” Noctis struggled, his face twinging as if he were in pain. “If he... _touched _you, then we’ll work through it, okay?”

Nervousness was evident on his face, like he was afraid Prompto might flee at the sound of his words. Instead, after a second or two of looking surprised, Prompto smiled softly and leaned over to capture Noctis’ lips. Noctis made a startled noise, but quickly settled into the kiss, revelling in every second of pure Prompto—Prompto’s lips on his own, his hand grazing the side of his face, holding him gently in place as they kissed. He was sure he looked like a dazed idiot when Prompto pulled away.

“You’re the best, Noct,” Prompto murmured. “But honestly, he didn’t do anything like that. He just... beat me up. Told me some things that I really didn’t want to hear.”

His stomach clenched at the memories, but he was thankful that Ardyn hadn’t done anything worse. So, that was what Noct had thought was the cause of everything falling apart? He had worried that Ardyn had done things to him that only a lover should? Touched him in ways he’d only ever permitted Noctis to touch? Ardyn’s harsh words and mild torture didn’t seem so bad anymore; maybe he could actually consider himself lucky.

“Like what? Did he tell you we shouldn’t be together?” Noctis tried, not letting out his breath of relief quite yet. Prompto shook his head, and leaned in again, brushing his nose gently against Noct’s, his eyes half-lidded and dozy.

“Let’s not talk about this right now, okay?”

Noctis was disappointed to be shut down again, but he knew he shouldn’t push too far. He had time now. Prompto wasn’t going anywhere. Little by little, he would get closer to the truth, and maybe when he was close enough, Prompto might be ready to tell him on his own. Noctis leaned in, hands reaching for the back of Prompto’s neck and squeezing gently.

“Okay,” he said, with an exaggerated sigh. Lips met again in a few tender pecks, Noctis lingering in close when he whispered, “Can I ask you a favour?”

“Mm?” Prompto asked, wanting to hear the request before he committed himself to promises he couldn’t keep.

“Don’t go on the hunts with the glaives. Stay here, okay? I want to mend things with you, and I don’t think we can do that at a distance,” Noctis said, still so close that Prompto could feel his warm breath on his lips.

Prompto let himself relax. That was a favour to which he could agree; distance definitely wasn’t what they needed right now. All he wanted was to stay close to Noctis, for that was his safe place—always had been.

“Yeah,” Prompto breathed, leaning in to meet Noctis’ lips again. “I can do that.” They exchanged a few more gentle kisses before they pulled away and resumed their breakfast.

“So, what are your plans for the day?” Prompto asked, finally finishing his first pancake, after all the interruptions. Noctis gave him a sly smile.

“Stay right here in this bed. With you. All day.” Playfully, he tapped his fork to the end of Prompto’s nose, his pancake leaving a small dot of syrup in its wake.

“Hey!” Prompto pretended to grimace, but couldn’t hide his grin as he wiped the syrup from the tip of his nose. Noctis leaned in to kiss it after that, his tongue darting out to taste the remains of the sugary substance, opening his eyes just long enough to see Prompto staring cross-eyed at him. He chuckled softly, meeting his lips in one more kiss before he pulled away.

“I forgot how cute you were,” Noctis hummed, with a tilt of his head that made Prompto feel he’d forgotten how adorable Noctis was, too. He swallowed any embarrassment he was feeling, and gave him a grin.

“And _I_ forgot how much of a sap_ you_ were,” he teased.

“Well,” Noct yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “This sap feels like he might be ready for another round. What do you say?”

His eyes wandered to Prompto, not nearly so fearful of Prompto’s rejection anymore. Prompto raised his eyebrows, half in question, half in a seductive quirk. He lifted the tray off of their laps and set it down on the floor beside the bed, abandoning ten untouched pancakes that would probably be cold by the time they were of any interest to them again.

Prompto reached for Noctis’ waist, and pulled him in against him, guiding Noctis under him ever so gently. His hand effortlessly found the skin that was peeking out from between Noct’s shirt and waistband, and stroked his stomach tenderly, fingers tracing over taut muscles. Noctis reached for the back of his neck again, and pulled him down to meet his lips.

“Okay, but it’s _my _turn to make love to _you_, buddy,” Prompto grinned.

“You think I’m gonna complain?” Noct smirked back. Prompto met that statement with another smile, and a pair of roaming hands as lips pressed together once again.

There was something different about the way Prompto made love to Noctis this time—something subtle, but definitely there. He was still gentle, so genuinely loving, making sure to kiss and touch all the spots that used to make Noctis feel amazing, but he also exuded more confidence—his body stronger, thicker, and more toned than the young man he’d been in his twenties.

His hand remained securely under Noct’s back the entire time, holding him in what was practically an embrace, even as they neared their end. He angled himself just right, remembering exactly how to get Noctis to arch his back up against him as they reached their limit, and as Noct released soft noises, Prompto leaned in to kiss his lips oh so tenderly. Noctis’ body relaxed beneath him, and he stared up into those familiar eyes, knowing in his heart that this time, Prompto had loved him with everything he had. He had loved him like the world was ending.

Noctis reached up to brush a hand against his strong jaw, feeling a little confused to see that same kind of sadness in Prompto’s eyes that he had found there the night before, but it didn’t linger this time.

“I love you so much, Noct,” Prompto breathed, and Noctis smiled, the relief of hearing his familiar voice in a moment like this putting his worries to rest. Maybe that sadness only came from their time apart, filling this reunion with power and passion and emotion.

“I love you, too,” Noctis promised, lifting his head to meet Prompto’s lips again. If the world was ending, then at least this was the best way to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, giving kudos, commenting, and showing your support!! It means so much, and I love hearing from each and every one of you. <3
> 
> This chapter brings us to the end of Section 1 of this story. After this point, the parts I've written so far don't seem as solid to me as the first section, so it might take a little longer for me to update. I'm still going to try to stick to updating every two weeks, but it might be every three weeks, depending on how much editing needs to be done. I hope you'll all still stick around for what's to come, though, and I hope you're looking forward to Section 2 as much as I am! Thank you all again so much!


	10. Facing the Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took even longer than expected to get this chapter up! It's been a busy and stressful few weeks, but I finally managed to edit this chapter to my satisfaction. I definitely didn't want to post it before I had all (or at least MOST) of my ducks in a row for the next few chapters. As always, thank you so much for the love and support, and I hope you all enjoy the beginning of Section 2!

**Section 2: Truth and Consequence**

_Noctis was falling... falling through a black abyss, descending for miles until _ _he_ _ spiralled through some sort of vortex. His body jolted, eyes flying open, _ _face twisting_ _ with disdain when he realized where he was. He was back in the crystal, with a world of blue surrounding him, ethereal strands of purple and pink floating across the endless backdrop._

_ “No, please,” Noctis whispered into the nothingness, shoulders sagging as he stood there, head curling in against his neck as he tried to hide from this environment that had for so long been his prison. “I don’t want to be back here. Not again.”_

_ “Do not worry,” came a familiar voice, and Noctis looked up to see the sky part up ahead. _

_Gentiana stepped out from the rip in the sky, and Noctis watched, mesmerized as it mended itself back up behind her. She approached the king with graceful, unhurried steps, her black hair long and straight, her expression suggesting a strong sense of wisdom, even with her eyes hidden beneath dark eyelashes._

_ “You are only here to be reminded.”_

_“Reminded. Of the ‘unrest’, right?” Noctis asked._

_It wasn’t the first time he’d been here with Gentiana, nor the first time she’d given him a message. In fact, he’d been here many times since he’d brought back the sunlight, and yet, Gentiana’s Astral message was always vague—riddled with only hints of what Noctis was supposed to do now that he had survived his prophecised destiny._

_ “The threat must be addressed. You must not hesitate.”_

_ “I know. _ _And I__’ve been trying, but I don’t know how to solve it,” Noctis said, pleadingly, desperate for an escape. “__Except...” _

_He halted, not sure if he should bring Prompto’s name __into the conversation__ or not; if he was _wrong_ about __Prompto__ being a key to his solution, he wasn’t sure he __wanted to hear it__. He didn’t want to know that his plan for creating peace could be viewed as inadequate in the eyes of the Astrals; he wanted to prove to them first that __his resolve was sound._

_ “Then receive my message again, young king: __The prophecy once told of a king that would give his life to bring the light back to the world. The king sacrificed himself, and proved himself worthy, and his life was spared because __there were_ _those in the beyond __who__ willed it. The Gods, however, did not predict that by having the king survive, the people of Eos would turn to conflict once again. The king must now prevent war, or his second chance on earth will have been for naught.__”_

_ “Yeah,” Noctis breathed, letting the message settle in his brain again, hoping that more pieces of this puzzle would stick this time, and that he might figure out what he had to do before it was too late. “_ _And that’s why... why I still have access to my magics, even though the crystal and the Ring of the Lucii are gone, right? The Astrals, and the kings of old... They’re still on my side?”_

_ Gentiana put a finger to her lips and smiled softly, eyes remaining closed._

_“They take the side of those who would bring peace, and that burden falls to you.”_

_ “Lucky me,” Noct uttered._

_“Once the last chance of war is averted, the magics will return to the earth, and the world will be at peace. Know, however, that you need not act alone. Gaining the trust of your people may take more than a single soul._”

_ “More than a single soul,” Noctis repeated._

_“More than a single soul,” Gentiana whispered, before she and Noctis were swept up in their blue surroundings as the walls came together in a whirlwind._

* * *

Noctis awoke with a jump, head rising up off the pillow, breathing hard. He was relieved to find himself in the comfort of his bedroom. His chest was pressed against Prompto’s back, his arm locked around his waist, with Prompto’s arm draped over his own. Letting out a sigh of relief, Noct moved his head to press a few kisses to the back of Prompto’s shoulder before resting his chin there, forcing the last of the dream to fade from his mind for now. He was just glad to be here, outside of the crystal, safe, with Prompto.

His dear Prompto... He stared straight ahead at the stand-up mirror, and admired how good they looked together—black hair contrasting with blond, fair bare skin on even fairer. Six months had passed since they had first gotten back together, and for Noctis, it felt like everything had changed.

Besides the amelioration of his financial situation and news of the resistance dwindling, the biggest and best changes in Noct’s life involved Prompto. His distant and solemn moods were slowly but steadily becoming a thing of the past, being replaced instead by the sunny disposition he’d had in his younger days. He was no longer prone to avoidance, no longer fearful of initiating contact or striking up a conversation. And Noct had to say, they both seemed to be adjusting exceptionally well to Prompto coming upstairs to share his bed at night.  
  
It relieved Noctis beyond words to have him so close, to feel like he wasn’t going to flee when he spoke to him or touched him. He felt like he could protect him when he was near him, despite still not knowing what he was so scared of, but just being able to hold him and whisper loving words to him was enough for now. Things were going so well, they almost felt normal again—the way they joked around with each other, the way Prompto’s hand would slip into his own like it was second nature, the way their love made them feel so safe even in the midst of their busy lives.

There were still nights when Prompto would awake in the early hours of the morning with a nightmare, and Noct would talk him down from the terror, holding him close and calming him down. It had been happening less frequently, however, since he had patched things up with Noct, which at least eased Noct’s worries to some degree. To be honest, Noctis’ own dreams were starting to concern him more than Prompto’s; his own dreams refused to leave him alone lately.

Noctis brought himself back to the current moment and watched Prompto’s sleeping face—his softly parted lips that took in heavy breaths, the long lashes of his closed eyes concealing some of the dark circles and age lines underneath them. He took in the sight of his bare torso, the thick scars on his stomach peeking out just above the blankets, and felt proud to know he had kissed every inch of them.

To be honest, Noctis had come to love staring at his partner in the mirror like this, as it allowed him to admire Prompto from more than one angle at a time—kissing his back and shoulders while still being able to watch his expression. He lifted his head to press a kiss to Prompto’s ear, and watched his reflection as it reacted with a scrunch of its nose.

“Good morning, handsome,” Noct murmured, earning a groggy noise from the dozing kingsglaive. “You know, I’m really starting to enjoy being the first one up. It certainly has its perks,” he went on, as he gave Prompto’s earlobe another peck. The Prompto in the mirror gave a sleepy smile, but didn’t stir much more than that until he forced himself to speak.

“Are you okay, buddy?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You were dreaming again. Weren’t you?” Prompto asked, eyes finally drifting open, and catching Noctis’ gaze in the mirror. He felt Noct’s body tense against him, even though the king had hoped his unease would go unnoticed.

“How’d you know?” Noct asked, the corner of his mouth lifting up into a defeated little smile.

“I heard you,” Prompto said, shrugging. Noctis didn’t have time to question what exactly Prompto had heard when his phone dinged a moment later. Noct sighed and reached backwards for it, his arm wrapping around Prompto again as he checked the message.

“Who is it?” Prompto hoarsely asked, blinking.

“Ignis, of course. He and Gladio want to meet with me,” Noct rolled his eyes, typing a quick response before practically tossing the phone back on the nightstand.

Prompto rolled over in his arms, laying on his back and turning his head to smile lazily at his king. He reached for Noctis’ jaw, thumb grazing lovingly over his stubbly chin, but even as Noct tilted his head down to kiss Prompto’s finger, Prompto caught a look of disquietude in his eyes.

“You wanna talk about it?” Prompto asked, carefully.

“About what?”

“Your dream.”

“Oh, that? Nah,” Noct chuckled, softly.

“Because you’ve been here for me plenty of nights when I— when I dreamt of Ardyn,” Prompto said, forcing the words out, even though it was hard to keep himself from stuttering over them. “And it’s really nice to have you here when it happens. Even if it is a little embarrassing sometimes,” Prompto smiled, timidly, hoping the comment might make Noctis feel less awkward about opening up to him, but to his dismay, he took a different approach entirely.

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed,” Noctis assured him, brows slanting into a pained look. “You went through something that no one ever should. It was traumatic, and no one should ever judge you for still suffering from it, okay?”

He tried not to shiver at his own words, and reminded himself that despite his concern, his own dreams were probably nothing compared to those Prompto had—of how Prompto had been stuck in those restraints in the Keep, how Ardyn had tortured him and said things to him that should never have been said.

Prompto’s smile had lessened slightly, but it deepened again after a moment of staring at Noct’s worried face. Even if the conversation hadn’t gone where he had hoped it would, he couldn’t help but enjoy that feeling of endearment that had been caused by Noctis’ kind words. He slid his fingers from under Noct’s ear to the tip of his bearded chin, and guided him closer.

“You make everything better, don’t you?” he whispered, smiling up at him with those eyes that mesmerized Noctis with their flecks of turquoise and purple.

“I certainly try,” Noctis smirked, allowing himself to be pulled in against Prompto’s lips.

He felt Prompto’s hand searching for the small of his back, and Noct released a tiny noise of approval as Prompto found the scar from his old injury and rubbed tenderly. Noct rolled to hover atop Prompto, supporting himself on one elbow while his free hand reached to caress his stomach. Happily, he leaned in to kiss his neck, and Prompto tilted his head back to allow him access. He spurred him on by resting a hand between his shoulderblades, fingertips pressing into the skin as he clung to him.

Both groaned as the phone on the nightstand sounded again, ending the moment when it had barely begun. Noctis huffed as he reached for his phone again, and Prompto kept his hands exactly where they were so Noct wouldn’t even consider moving, his fingers gently massaging his back.

“Ignis again. Must be urgent,” the king lamented.

“Wonder what’s up,” Prompto solemnly pondered, and despite his efforts, he felt Noctis pulling away from his touch as he sat up. Noct reached for his shirt that had been tossed haphazardly toward the end of the bed the night before, and pulled it over his head, ending Prompto’s opportunity to stare.

“Don’t know, but I’d better go. I _am _trying to prove a point that I can love someone and rule my kingdom at the same time. Don’t want anyone on the council to think I can’t. You know, once they find out about us, we’ll have the proof that I’ve been maintaining my relationship with you while still making time for my duties,” Noctis said, face twisted up in apology as he leaned in to press one last kiss to Prompto’s lips.

He scooted to the edge of the bed and grabbed his pants off of the floor, pulling them on before heading for the ensuite. The phone dinged again, but Noctis didn’t bother to look at it this time.

“Geez, Ignis. Gimme time to clean up first,” Noct sighed.

“Maybe it’s about that report you neglected to write,” Prompto said, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Ugh, is that really important? I mean, everyone already knows what’s been going on here anyway,” Noct grumbled from the bathroom.

“Yeah, but you haven’t written an updated report on the Citadel in months. It’s important to keep track of the changes, you know?” Prompto reminded him.

It made sense, but Noct still hated those kinds of reports. They were all about details, and Noctis never liked taking the time to write them. Maybe the council would start accepting voice memos if he really begged them.

The past six months _had _brought about a lot of change, however, and Noctis couldn’t deny that. Talcott had returned to Lestallum after exhausting any and all possibilities from his grandfather’s journal in order to open the lock on the vault—different location coordinates, dates of important historical events, and any other numbers that they had thought might have been important to King Regis. All of their attempts had failed.

Gladio had even offered to take the door down with brute force, but Ignis had warned him he would die trying. The metal they had used to construct it was far beyond what they were capable of breaking. Even if they did have the power, the vault had been designed to bring the Citadel crashing down with it, if that wall were to be removed by force. The kings of old had constructed the place with that extra level of security in mind.

Despite all of that, the worries Noctis had felt about his financial situation diminished after discovering his father’s will, and realizing he had been smarter than to store all of his money in one place. Some of it had been put into a local bank, and even though the one in Insomnia had been destroyed, another bank in the chain had been able to provide Noctis with a great sum of what his father had left for him. Another small portion had been hidden in one of the old king’s tombs, and Cor had accompanied a handful of glaives on their mission to retrieve it. Both bundles of money had helped Noctis to continue paying his staff, and managed to keep himself afloat as he kept up with the day-to-day costs both inside and outside the Citadel.

Noctis was also content with what he’d done with the glaives, earning what they could from hunts all over Eos. Any gil they earned was turned in to the council upon the glaives’ return to the Citadel, and the treasures they found were sold. He also created a small guild of glaives who were specifically assigned to be treasure hunters; they scoured the land for gems and trinkets, as well as vegetables and other produce that could be sold for profit.

In addition, he turned one of the city’s fountains into a wishing well that welcomed any small donations, hoping that tourists—or even locals—might spare a little pocket change for the restoration of Insomnia. He put a donation box in the centre of town for the same purpose. For now, he put any upcoming restoration plans on hold, hoping that the remainder of his father’s funds would be accessible by the time they were ready to start any new reconstruction projects.

Word of the resistance had died down for the most part. Although Iris had been able to match the Lucian symbol from the picture of the gunman in Galahd with the symbol Noctis and Prompto had seen in Altissia, she hadn’t been able to trace it beyond that. Despite the fears that Galahd might retaliate after Noctis and Prompto had left without giving the town the aid it deserved, the threats had not continued since Noctis had returned to the safety of the Citadel. He hoped that the few months without travel had given people time to cool down, and that their anger and frustration with him might have faded completely by the time he was able to start offering financial help again.

“I really hope it’s not about the report,” Noct grimaced. “I’ve got a hand cramp just thinking about it. I miss the days when Ignis would write those things for me. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to, but still...”

Prompto lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Any mention of Ignis still managed to put him a little on edge, even now. What would Ignis think of Prompto after the conversation they’d had all those months ago? What would he do if he knew Prompto had been blatantly going against what he had suggested was best for Noct?

“Here’s an idea. Why don’t you come with me?” Noct asked, poking his head out of the bathroom door with his toothbrush in hand, and a mouth full of toothpaste. Prompto’s head shot in his direction, their gazes locking.

“To the meeting? Why?”

Noct ducked back inside the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste before appearing in the doorway again.

“Because you’re on the council, and it’s just going to be Ignis and Gladio there anyway. It would feel wrong if the three of us were there without you.”

Prompto could understand that feeling. He had been so used to everything involving the four of them, that when Noct had disappeared into the crystal, the group had felt terribly unbalanced and empty. Heck, the universe itself had felt out of whack. The four of them had been through so much together, being without any one of them would have felt wrong.

“Besides, then I wouldn’t have to miss you so much,” Noct winked, playfully.

“I don’t know, Noct. They might suspect something if I go with you,” Prompto said, nervously biting his bottom lip. With them being so close lately, he wasn’t sure either of them would be much good at hiding their relationship.

“And would that be such a bad thing? I mean, maybe we should just tell them. If you’re ready,” Noct added. He watched Prompto’s uncertain expression as he lay there, and even as the seconds passed, it remained unchanging.

It was hard to want to be near each other so much of the time and maintain a low profile, and neither of them enjoyed sneaking around. They’d done that enough near the beginning of their relationship, and again when they were on the road with Ignis and Gladio and struggled to find time for themselves. Keeping their newly rebuilt relationship a secret came with frustrations, and sometimes it was easier to give in than to fight it—sneaking a kiss in the hallway here, allowing a brushing of fingertips there.

Noctis wondered if this might be one of those times where they should just give in, where they should rip off the bandage, tell their friends, and get it over with. Prompto had come to feel completely at home with him over the past several months, and Noctis had hoped that they were making headway, that they were on the right path to a future together. Maybe he was letting too much of his feelings of success ride on his relationship with Prompto, but even when he felt he wasn’t making progress with the kingdom, he was at least making progress with the man who might one day become his consort, and that had to count for something.

“I dunno,” Prompto breathed, his stomach churning uncomfortably. “Maybe we should test the waters first. See what kind of mood they’re in.”

“Fair enough,” Noctis smirked, returning from the bathroom. He headed for his closet, and selected a semi-casual outfit for his meeting, carrying the clothes hanger back towards the bathroom and placing it on the hook on the back of the door.

“You mind if I shower first?” Noctis asked, though by the look of the still unmoving Prompto, it wasn’t going to be a problem.

“Go ahead,” Prompto nodded, and as Noctis disappeared behind the closing door with a smile, Prompto reached for the covers. Defeated, he pulled them over his head, wishing he could disappear beneath them. Something told him today wasn’t a day he wanted to face.

* * *

It was hardly an hour later, and Prompto was dressed in his Kingsglaive outfit, following Noctis toward the meeting room like a lost puppy. Noctis halted before they pushed open the large doors, and turned to face Prompto behind him. He reached for his shoulders, his thumbs rubbing tenderly in a back-and-forth motion.

“You seem tense. Are you okay?” Noct asked, gently, eyes displaying worry.

“I’m fine,” Prompto fibbed, his nerves from their earlier conversation never having settled.

“Hopefully this won’t take too long, then we can grab a bite of breakfast, ‘kay?”

“’Kay.”

Noctis finally pushed the doors open and led the way inside, taking a seat in his usual spot at the head of the table. Gladio and Ignis were standing behind their respective chairs, and they waited until the king was situated before they sat themselves down. Prompto followed suit, taking a seat next to Noctis, across from Gladio and Ignis, and was thankful when he didn’t earn any quizzical glances as to why he was here. Of course, it was just the four of them. This _was _perfectly normal, right?

“You wanted to see me?” Noct inquired.

“Yes. I have some news,” Ignis announced, the pause that followed making Noctis believe he was hesitant to actually _reveal _said news.

“Yeah?” Noct prodded. His advisor cleared his throat.

”Accordo has organized a grand event—a ball of sorts—in your honour. Given the current state of the kingdom and your financial situation, this could be a good time to start thinking about choosing a bride, and this ball was created with the intent that you would be able to mingle with some potential mates,” Ignis announced. Gladio shifted in his seat when he saw the look of discomfort on his king’s face—not to mention Prompto’s.

“Yeah,” Noct said, somewhat haughtily. “Aranea already told us long ago. Was hoping it was just a rumour, though, especially since I doubt Accordo could make something like this official without getting the go-ahead from my council.” His eyes narrowed slightly at Ignis, who—fortunately for him—couldn’t see his disapproval.

“My apologies, but the council and I felt it would be in your best interest to attend. Not only could a union between Lucis and Accordo be a symbol of peace and potentially continue reducing the amount of threats we’ve been seeing from the resistance, but depending on the wealth of your future bride, it could also be of great benefit to you to be able to share both of your assets,” Ignis explained.

Noctis could see Prompto’s posture sagging, not that he could blame him for it. There was a sharp pain in the pit of his own stomach from the way Ignis had spoken about his future _bride _when he knew full well that Noctis had only ever been interested in seeking out a _groom_. It stung him to his core to know that he had specifically requested Ignis look into what kinds of marriage and marriage laws were allowed or could be altered, and he had done nothing but ignore that request.

Noctis knew why a bride was their first priority; it was what was written in history, what was expected, what was _accepted_. But he wanted to change that. He wanted to _be_ that change that the world needed to see.

“And what if I don’t want to partake? Seems like my time would be much better spent managing the things that need to get done here than scuttling off to Accordo. Besides, something like this never should have been put into action without my approval in the first place.”

“Unfortunately, arrangements have already been made for you to attend. You are scheduled to depart early tomorrow morning,” Ignis announced. Noctis frowned.

“Seriously?”

“My apologies, but your presence there is what the council deemed more an obligation than an option.”

“Again, why wasn’t I informed that the council was talking about this without me?” Noctis asked, his mildly fiery eyes darting between Ignis and Gladio.

“Some of the members felt… that your head wasn’t quite in the game,” Gladio explained, calmly. Noctis gaped at him, a tiny appalled noise escaping his throat.

“And no one’s blaming you, Noct. It’s just, you’ve been busy, you know, with the vault, and the glaives, and the money problems. The focus hasn’t been on public image for a while now. Monica, Cor, and Dustin have been in this for a lot longer than we have, and they thought it’d be best if you at least met some of these potentials,” Gladio explained.

“Secretary Claustra mentioned that her niece will be attending the event as well. She is regarded highly in Accordo, and it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to form a friendly relation with someone of such reputable status,” Ignis added.

“Why?” Noct tested, brows knitted.

“Earning back Accordo’s trust since the Leviathan incident is something you wanted to do anyway, am I right? And as far as long-term goals are concerned, well, I don’t know if anyone would be totally opposed to some sort of union happening.”

“You mean _marriage_. You want me to marry some girl just because her aunt has some power and money,” Noct scoffed. Ignis and Gladio remained silent, heads lowering in remorse as they prepared themselves for the discord.

“Need I remind you that my father married my mother, not only because it was convenient, but because they _loved _each other?” Noct said, a low fierceness in his voice. Prompto swallowed hard, and lowered his gaze as well, very much regretting that he’d tagged along as he felt his pulse begin to race.

“Iris says there is much talk among Eos’ citizens who hope that a royal intermarriage might become the symbol of peace that they had been looking forward to all those years ago, when you were engaged to Lady Lunafreya,” Ignis explained.

“But that was all a ruse,” Prompto interjected, but his voice sounded much weaker than he would have liked. “Noct and Lady Lunafreya’s wedding was just part of the empire’s twisted plan.”

“Nevertheless, it gave the public hope. It gave them something to focus on besides war. Now, it would give them something to focus on besides the grief of what was lost. The joined assets could allow you to continue rebuilding Eos, and could lessen the citizens’ hatred towards the Crown.” Ignis said.

“Hold on. Just stop,” Noctis instructed. Prompto looked up to see Noct’s closed eyes, and his hand held up in the air to halt the conversation. “You’re just going to sell me down the river to some girl we don’t even know?”

“Of course not. The choice will be yours, Your Majesty,” Ignis promised him.

“But you’re _hoping_ I’ll choose _her_,” Noct retorted.

“We just want you to meet her and see what happens, okay? That’s all we’re asking right now,” Gladio added.

“Well, it’s not going to happen,” Noctis asserted. Prompto could feel his heart thudding in his ears as the king reached for his hand atop the table. Noctis met his gaze, eyes locking and lingering in place. There was a look of uncertainty, of question, in Noctis’ grey-blue eyes, and Prompto gulped as he was asked the question.

“Should we tell them?”

Prompto squeezed Noct’s hand instinctively, and although he hadn’t meant it as a signal of approval, Noctis took it as one.

“If I do ever marry, the union will be between Lucis and Niflheim, not Accordo,” Noct announced, while Prompto sat there in a state of shock and guilt.

Noctis gave himself a moment to breathe, to recollect himself. He considered the possibility that he didn’t _need_ to be hostile with Ignis and Gladio right now. Maybe they were sending him on this trip simply because they _didn’t know _what was going on behind closed doors.

“Listen, I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you guys that… Prompto and I are back together,” he announced, with a small smile, tightening his grasp on Prompto’s hand, and Prompto clutched back, despite the panic that was suddenly running through his veins. Like Noctis, he tried his best to calm himself.

This wedding Noct was talking about was hypothetical, something way off in the future if it ever even came to be. And having Ignis and Gladio know about them wasn’t going to change anything, right? It didn’t necessarily increase the risk of his secret getting out, did it?

“For real? Well, it’s about damn time. Why didn’t you say somethin’ sooner?” Gladio asked, giving them a gentle grin.

“We wanted to keep it to ourselves for a while. Take things slow. Rekindle things,” Noct explained.

“Guess I shoulda’ figured it out. Neither of you has been quite so mopey lately,” Gladio jested. Noctis responded with a flicker of a smirk, but silence fell immediately after. His gaze travelled to Ignis and lingered there. Ignis could feel the stare, despite his inability to see it.

“Ignis? You gonna say somethin’ here?” Noct asked. 

Prompto felt his hand becoming uncomfortably warm within Noct’s. He felt like he might melt away to nothing, and maybe it would be a blessing in disguise. At least then he could disappear and leave this awkward situation behind.

“I’m not sure what you expect me to say. I cannot wholeheartedly agree that this is the best move for Lucis,” he said, giving what seemed like an accusatory nod in Prompto’s direction, which made Prompto shrink a little more in his seat. 

“Lucis doesn’t have to know at this time. I hope you’ll respect our wishes and keep this to yourselves for now. I mean, we’ve had a lot to work through, but things are going well. Don’t want other people interfering with our personal affairs until we’re good and ready to deal with it,” Noctis said, with another gentle glance at Prompto, hoping he would agree. Prompto nodded absently.

“Be that as it may, I still believe the council would be happy if you attended the ball this week,” Ignis said.

“Yeah, for appearance’s sake at least, just go and mingle. Meet this niece the secretary told us about. You don’t have to sweep her off her feet or anything,” Gladio added. Noctis sucked in an audible breath, and Prompto could feel him watching him like a hawk, Noct’s gaze seeming to remain locked onto him forever.

“I, um... I don’t know if now’s the best time,” Noct started, hesitantly.

When Prompto turned his head to meet his stare, there was guilt in the king’s eyes—so much sorrow and pain. Noct didn’t want to abandon him, didn’t want to leave when Prompto was finally letting himself get close to him, but he was trapped between his love and his duty.

This trip was what the council thought was best, and maybe it was, as far as peace-keeping went. But what if going to Accordo broke Prompto’s trust? Or made him feel threatened? Noctis didn’t think he could handle it if things started falling apart again, not when life had finally gotten so good.

“It’s okay, Noct,” Prompto spoke up, seeming to catch on to his feelings. “It’s not gonna do any harm to go meet some people. It’ll be good for everyone if Lucis has a good relation with Accordo.”

“But, we already have a pretty good—”

“It’s okay, Noct. Really,” Prompto insisted, eyes conveying a look of certainty, making Noctis back down. Still, the king continued to pensively stare at the table for a long while, earning mostly concerned expressions from his three friends.

“If it’s _absolutely necessary_, I’ll go,” Noct eventually spoke up, words coming out slowly and pointedly. “But _only_ on one condition. Prompto comes with me.” Prompto swallowed hard, not missing the frown that appeared on Ignis’ face. Gladio, at least, appeared indifferent.

“What’s wrong with that? I’ll need a protector with me, right?” Noct tested his retainer.

“Then perhaps your Shield would be the most appropriate choice,” came Ignis’ immediate response.

“It’s fine, Iggy. Prompto’s more than capable of handling things if they get dicey, which I doubt they will. If it’s alright with you, Noct, I’d kind of like to stick around here anyway to monitor the glaives as they come and go from those hunts. Some of ‘em have been coming home in rough shape, and I want to make sure all injuries get properly taken care of.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks for keeping a close eye on them. Keep doing what you’re doing, Gladio,” Noctis praised, with a gentle smile, before turning back to Ignis and meeting his blind eyes.

“So, what exactly am I to do in Accordo?”

“You’ll be visiting a small town called Accalia, not far from Altissia. Make strong connections, first and foremost. We don’t want any turmoil between the nations. Good first impressions are everything. And if you do meet this niece of Claustra’s, remember, anything she can do to improve the people’s view of you and your kingdom would be much appreciated,” the advisor instructed.

“Right.”

“And, Noct? Don’t close any doors while you’re there, alright?” Ignis asked, with a meaningful lilt to his voice that made Noctis uncomfortably aware of what he meant: don’t write anyone off if there was any chance of an attraction, or more importantly, a union between them.

To his disappointment, Prompto had likely figured out what those words meant as well, for his head was hung low in shame. Noct gave his hand another squeeze as he got to his feet, coaxing him to follow his lead.

“Got it. We done?” he asked, impatiently. Ignis sighed heavily.

“Yes, Your Majesty. We’re done.”

“Come on, Prompto,” Noct murmured, shifting his tone to a drastically gentler one to emphasize how important Prompto was to him, and hoping the contrast might remind Ignis of how rude he was being. He was grateful for the feel of Prompto’s hand clutching his own as he led him out of the room, escaping before anyone could say anything else insensitive.

As the door to the meeting room closed behind them, Ignis removed his glasses from his scarred face and set them down on the table before gingerly massaging his temples. As much as Gladio wanted to reach out and offer some comfort, he couldn’t. Something wasn’t sitting well with him.

“I didn’t realize we weren’t on the same page about those two,” he said, his gruff voice low and quiet. Ignis turned his head towards him.

“You know I do not wish to separate them, Gladio, but it would be far more beneficial to the kingdom if Noct were to still marry someone who could help get him out of this tough spot. It would solve many of the financial struggles, it would likely bring hope and peace, it would solve the issue of producing heirs. And I hate to say it, but a relationship between a king and a queen would be more accepted than a king and his male consort—a man of Niflheim, at that.”

“On the one hand, I see what you’re saying, and on the other, _who gives a shit_? People don’t like it? They can suck it up,” Gladio grunted, folding his arms across his chest.

“It’s not that simple, Gladio. There are citizens out there who would wish to harm Noct, and this is simply giving them more ammunition, not to mention putting Prompto in danger as well,” Ignis reminded him. Gladio fell silent, his bottom lip curling inward in sorrow as he considered his friend’s words and the harsh truths behind them.

“I get that, too, but we don’t know for sure how imminent that danger is, and when I think about the big picture… Dammit, Iggy, all I can think about is poor Prompto. If Noct makes life better for him, then why shouldn’t he be allowed to be with him while he’s still—” Gladio halted abruptly at the lump in his throat, knowing he wouldn’t get any more words past it.

“I know, Gladio!” Ignis snapped, pre-emptively cutting him off before he could say the words that were too painful for either of them to hear. He quieted himself after that, trying to rein in his emotions. “I know.”

There was a silence that threatened to swallow both of them, a silence that hung in the air, almost broken by sobs that fought hard to break free. Thankfully, Ignis found his voice before tears came.

“We have no idea what Prompto’s future holds, nor what impact it will have on Noct. I wish I could speak to Noct about the consequences of Prompto’s condition, but after what Prompto said about him not wanting to talk...”

“Yeah. Better just leave it alone. Noct isn’t going to abandon him in a state like this, and being told that it’s a bad idea to stay together isn’t going to change that. They would just sneak around behind our backs.”

“You’re most likely right, Gladio. I simply worry. About Prompto’s health, about how stress might worsen his condition were he to rule at Noct’s side, and about how Noct will deal with his grief when matters inevitably take a turn for the worst. And then, of course, I have my concerns about the resistance, and the opinions of the citizens. How might the world view a marriage such as this?” Ignis solemnly mused.  
  
“I’m sure His Majesty isn’t going to do anything to risk losing the respect of the citizens. He cares about Lucis, that’s for damn sure. And maybe a union between Lucis and Niflheim might not be so bad. A lot of people from Niflheim came to start a new life here in Lucis since Noct began his reign. That’s gotta be a good sign, right?”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right, Gladio. Noct knows the dangers as well as anyone,” Ignis sighed, and folded his hands in front of his face, fingers lacing together. The situation was far from ideal, but perhaps for now, they had to work with it.

“I suppose we must simply play the waiting game, and see how things pan out.”

“Well, at least I can agree with you on that one,” Gladio sighed.

* * *

Hands remained linked from the time they’d left the meeting room right up until they’d made it back to Noctis’ chambers, never having to part as the halls and elevators had been void of prying eyes during this early hour of the morning. Noctis closed the door quietly behind them, still not letting Prompto go since he looked like he was about to break, with his gaze on the floor and his head low.

“Don’t let what Ignis said bother you, okay? He shouldn’t have said any of that,” Noct cooed, his free hand reaching for Prompto’s as well, and swinging their arms gently. Prompto’s gaze remained distant, his blinks long and slow.

“What if he’s right?” he eventually asked, voice a ghost of what it had been earlier that morning.

“What? No. He’s not,” Noct frowned, grasp tightening slightly around Prompto’s hands.

“Noct, every time an obstacle like this gets tossed at us, I’m hit with that feeling that I’m on a completely different level from you. We need to face it. Maybe I’m never going to be right for you,” Prompto said, voice rising, but it wasn’t so much a holler as it was a desolate cry.

“Hey, you don’t get to decide that alone! I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You and I… we are right. We have always been right,” Noct tried to persuade him, but Prompto lowered his head, apparently unconvinced.

“Prompto, you have to understand that I would choose you a hundred times over. Even if the kingdom wasn’t happy with my decision, or if every nation outside of Lucis turned its back on us. I know it’s selfish, but I want you. And I’m proud of this love we have. I want to at least give the world the benefit of the doubt, and give them the _chance_ to accept us,” Noctis announced, his grey eyes slanted with so much emotion, reflecting the sorrow in Prompto’s own eyes.

Noctis looked so much like his father in that moment, with that kingly air about him, expression laden with definite generosity. Prompto found it a little ironic how Noct had struggled to understand why his father had protected him above all else, had made him his first priority, putting him before his kingdom, and here was Noct doing the exact same thing for him. Would he come to regret that decision when he realized the similarity of the situation?

“You should pack your things, Noct. You have to be ready for tomorrow,” Prompto finally said, pushing forth a feeble smile that did little to put the king at ease, especially as he pulled a hand free of Noct’s and headed for the door. Noct refused to let his other hand go as he tread forward, caressing it gently.

“And you. You’ll come with me, right?”

Prompto blinked again and managed a nod, giving him another forced smile that barely hid his pain.

“Yeah. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, before pulling away, fingers slipping out of Noctis’ reach.

“Wait, you’re not staying?” Noctis appeared hurt now, his expression carrying hints of confusion as to why Prompto would choose to spend not only the entire day, but the coming night without him.

“I’ve got some stuff I need to do if I’m going to go with you. And we should probably both have a _proper _rest tonight,” Prompto said, giving a small shrug and a smile before he headed for the exit. Noctis watched as the door clicked shut behind him, finding the thought of a night with the bed to himself rather uninviting.

With a defeated sigh, he collapsed on the edge of the bed, sitting there with a bundle of emotions swirling in his stomach; they made him feel disgusting. He just hoped he would be able to settle that feeling before morning, or there would be an awful mess to clean up on the train.


	11. Connections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given the current state of the world, I thought everyone might need a little pick-me-up right now, so I got this chapter ready a little early. I hope you all take care, stay safe, and enjoy! <3

Prompto and Noctis were quiet as their chauffeur drove them to a newly built harbour not far from Galdin. Once they had made it across the ocean on a small cruiseship, they boarded a train that would take them to Accalia. Noctis did his best to make conversation, but Prompto remained silent for the most part. There was a solemn air about him, and Noctis wasn’t completely sure of the cause—whether it was the idea of him meeting a room full of potential brides, or whether it was the things that had been said during the meeting the day before.

Noctis had let Prompto take a window seat, and Prompto sat with his face turned to watch the scenery, his chin resting in his hand. Noctis sat calmly beside him, stealing glances every now and then as he tried to figure out how to fix things. There were so many possibilities of what could be wrong, and Noctis figured they were all plaguing Prompto’s mind at once. That half-sad, half-stoic look on his face had been there since the night before.

Noctis reached for Prompto’s knee, palm wrapping around it tenderly, his thumb brushing over it with care. Prompto flinched, his gaze flickering to the hand and immediately away with a look of indifference.

“I’m sorry. On top of everything else, this trip probably brings back some bad memories, huh?” Noct asked. Prompto shook his head.

“Nah, I’m fine.”  
  
It wasn’t the train ride that was causing the knots in his stomach, even if the last train voyage with Noct had been less than amiable. If anything, he was just grateful that this train wasn’t taking them to Gralea this time, glad their final destination wasn’t anywhere near Niflheim. He didn’t want to see where he’d come from. Right now, he didn’t want any ties to it whatsoever.

“You sure? You feeling okay?” Noct asked, lowering his head to peek at Prompto, hoping to meet his eyes. To his surprise, he found what looked like fear in his expression.

“Y-yeah, why? Do I look sick?” Prompto asked, warily. He moved his hand from his chin to his cheek, feeling for a temperature. Noctis shook his head quickly, intending to put his worries to rest.

“You look fine. Just… weary, I guess?” Noct shrugged. Prompto let his fear fall away, stifling a sigh of relief. Weary was fine, he supposed—accurate, even.

He was tired of thinking so hard. He had gotten very little sleep the night before, with Ignis’ words playing over and over in his head. The invisible weight on his chest reminded him that he should have dealt with this dilemma long ago, that he should have cut his ties to Noctis back then if he was going to wind up doing the same thing now. But here it was, the decision lay before him all over again, and this time, he couldn’t ignore or prolong it.

If Noct had the chance to save Lucis from its current crisis, and find himself a relationship that the world would approve of—a relationship that would last longer than what time Prompto had left—then wasn’t it the right thing to let him have it? If he tried to break things off, he knew Noctis would fight him on it. There was no doubt about that, but he didn’t know if he could bear to let Noct throw away everything for him. He didn’t know if his heart would let him steal Noct’s chance for an easier life.

And after everything, Noctis deserved an easy life. He deserved a peaceful kingdom, a beautiful bride, a couple of children who adored him. If he stayed with Prompto, what would he get? A man who had been keeping secrets from him since the time they’d met? A man who couldn’t even promise him a long, happy life together?

“Prompto?” Noctis asked, worriedly, when his companion remained lost in thought. Prompto blinked wildly, and shook his head in apology.

“I’m sorry, Noct,” he breathed, turning his head toward the ceiling and rubbing his tired face with his hands. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” It was so true, on so many levels.

“Maybe you’re just nervous? You don’t have to be. This ball’s not going to change anything between us,” Noctis vowed, squeezing Prompto’s knee again, and Prompto lowered his hands, allowing his gaze to wander back to Noctis.

“Ignis was right about something, though, Noct. You shouldn’t close any doors while you’re there.” Noctis frowned at the words, brows pulling deeply downwards.

“We’re not seriously going to have this conversation, are we?”

“I think we have to,” Prompto said, just as firmly, and it made Noctis’ stomach twist. “Just keep your options open. I won’t be offended if you think _you_ or _even Lucis _would be better off with—“

“No,” Noct insisted, his hand leaving Prompto’s knee and coming into the space between them instead. His palm was flat, facing Prompto, halting him before he could say anything more. “We’re not doing this. I spent my whole life being told what I should or shouldn’t do. I’m finally in a position where I should be able to choose, and I don’t want you of all people trying to convince me otherwise. I need you on my side.”

“I’m only saying—“

“Well, don’t!” Noctis snapped, and Prompto’s violet-blue eyes suddenly looked so fragile, his brows slanted up in surprise and unease.

Noct regretted his harsh tone, and stared solemnly at the empty seat straight ahead. After a minute or two of tense silence, he moved his hand to search for Prompto’s, finding it on the seat beside him. Thankfully, despite keeping his gaze far from Noctis’, Prompto didn’t shy away from the gentle touch.

“I’m just not ready to give you up,” Noctis whispered, leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes, preparing himself for a nap, or at least letting it appear that way so they could both cool down.

Prompto turned to look at him, watching his lips in hopes that they might repeat those words so he could see them for himself, but it seemed their conversation was over for now. It was endearing to know Noctis was willing to risk his reputation—risk _everything_—for him, and it made him once again want to just give in, be selfish, and keep Noctis for himself. That decision, however, would have to wait until they got to Accalia, once Prompto was able to meet these potentials for himself. The best decisions were well-informed decisions, after all.

* * *

Even after all the trips they had made to Accordo, not once had they ventured into any towns besides Altissia, until now. The small city of Accalia was comprised of white, intricately constructed buildings, dappled with vibrant green foliage, and vines weaving up and around windows. White-blue lights illuminated the streets, shrouding everything in a soft halo, and giving the place an almost ethereal air.

As he and Noctis sat side-by-side in the backseat of a cab, Noct quietly commented that it reminded him of Tenebrae, and Prompto hoped his obvious sadness wouldn’t last. This was one of the most beautiful places Prompto had ever seen, a place he would have been happy to visit in his dreams. With the exception of Altissia, he had expected a place that had been taken over by Niflheim for so long to be eery, to bear more signs of destruction, but instead it appeared whole and perfect.

For Noctis, an eeriness remained in his heart as the chauffeur dropped him and Prompto off in front of the estate. They were ushered up two sets of large red-carpeted, white marble stairs, and led to an ensuite where they were invited to freshen up. Noct took the first turn in the washroom, and seemed to take far longer than was necessary to change into his formal attire for the evening.

Perhaps he was stalling, Prompto mused, but didn’t allow himself to hope for that scenario. Noctis deserved to meet someone who could give him a future; Prompto couldn’t forget that.

“Noct?” Prompto asked, softly, tapping a knuckle against the closed door of the bathroom. “I don’t mean to rush you, but we’re going to be late.”

The door swung slowly open, and Noctis stood there looking dejected, eyes low to the floor.

“Sorry, I’m just... I’m angry.”

“Why?” Prompto asked, tilting his head to the side. While Noct’s words had been enough to diffuse Prompto’s frustration on the train, it seemed the remaining voyage still hadn’t been enough to calm Noctis’ nerves.

“Because my council... my _Crownsguard._.. should be on my side. They shouldn’t be forcing me into some situation that I don’t want to be in. I’m not a prince anymore. I’m the _king_. Shouldn’t I have the final say?” Noctis met Prompto’s eyes in question.

“I think, in this case, you _do_, Noct,” Prompto replied. “But I also think... that maybe you’re here because you think it’s the right thing to do.”

Noctis’ eyes widened slightly, his weight shifting like the truth of Prompto’s words was almost enough to make him topple over. Noctis bit his lip, considering. Maybe Ignis and Gladio hadn’t learned their place yet, hadn’t fully realized that Noctis was no longer obligated to take their advice. Maybe Noctis wasn’t yet brave enough to put them in their place, to show authority over these men that had always been his friends and protectors. But maybe he was also here because he didn’t want to make any mistakes when it came to the future of his kingdom. One way or another, he needed to earn Eos’ trust.

“I guess... on some level, you’re right,” Noct sighed. “But you have to know how badly I want to be able to choose you. The fact that Ignis totally disregarded the fact that I love you just—“ Noctis halted himself, fighting back a growl. “It bothers me.”

“I know,” Prompto nodded, feeling the familiar ache in his stomach that came with the sting of Ignis’ words; yeah, it bothered him, too.  
  
Pushing past the discomfort, and hoping to encourage Noctis enough to get him through this uncomfortable evening, Prompto reached out for his shoulders, the fabric of his formal suit soft against his fingertips.

“But it’s only one night. If mingling with eligible maidens is what’s going to make Ignis happy, then let’s put on a brave face, and get through this, okay?” he smiled, meekly, rubbing small circles on Noct’s shoulders with his thumbs. Noctis seemed to relax at the touch, allowing himself a moment to close his eyes and take it in. It calmed him enough to let go of his frustration, at least for now.

“Okay,” Noct breathed.

“Okay. Can I take two minutes in here?” Prompto asked, as the king’s eyes drifted back open. Noctis nodded and moved out of the way, allowing him to enter the washroom.

“Of course. Need your uniform?”

“Yes, please.”

Noctis grabbed Prompto’s bag from its position on one of the room’s elegant armchairs, and handed it to him with a ghost of a smile before Prompto disappeared behind the closing door.

* * *

Within minutes, Noctis found himself heading down a separate set of red-carpeted stairs, followed by Prompto, who was dressed in his Kingsglaive uniform, ready to stand watch for the evening. The secretary was waiting for them on the landing, clad in a purple skirt and blazer set, similar to the teal ensemble she’d worn on the day Noctis had met her.

“Welcome, Your Majesty. Pleased you could make it,” Claustra said, her stern mouth twisting up slightly at the corners; Noctis knew it was as close to a smile as he was going to get. He offered a hand, and she shook it with a firm grip.

“Thank you for having me. This is quite the estate,” the king remarked, glancing around at the spacious lounge area—the large windows, the huge potted plants that were a vibrant green, the gold chandeliers that must have cost a fortune.

“Yes, it’s my niece’s estate. I may have gone a little... _overboard_ in my contribution to this place. But I’m sure you understand. Your father most likely doted on you in a similar fashion, making sure his son had everything his heart desired,” Claustra said. Noctis’ hand twitched at his side, just an inch or two away from Prompto’s.

“Well, almost everything,” Noct replied, closing his fist to resist the temptation to reach for him.

“Is your advisor not here with you? Mr. Scientia, was it?” Claustra queried. Noctis felt Prompto shift beside him, but he remained silent.

“No, he’s not here. Why do you ask?”

“As you probably know, he had a hand in helping us arrange all of this. It’s a shame he couldn’t attend.”

“Ignis helped you plan this?” Noct frowned.

“Yes, along with one of my government officials. Unfortunately, he’s not here to see it either. He resigned a few short months ago to pursue other avenues,” Claustra said, but the sad and distant look on Noctis’ face indicated that she’d lost his attention somewhere along the way.

“But I won’t take up any more of your time. Be sure to mingle with all of your guests, and don’t forget to introduce yourself to my niece. She’s the one in white. Let the guard know when you’re ready to enter.” She gave a wave toward the stairs, motioning for them to continue on their way.

They ascended the remaining steps, and met a man dressed in noble-looking attire, with a navy blue button-up uniform and white sash draped across one shoulder. He held a blade stiffly at his side as he stood guard at the top of the stairs, but offered the duo a small smile.

“Secretary Claustra said to let you know when I was here. I’m Noctis?” the king said, sounding unsure, which Prompto was certain was due to nerves.

“Of course, Your Majesty. One moment, please.” The guard strode a few paces into the room, and straightened his posture as he bellowed.

“Could I have your attention, please? The guest of honour has arrived. I present to you... His Majesty, King Noctis Lucis Caelum.”

Noctis balked at the sound of the applause that immediately followed, and he cleared his throat anxiously as he prepared himself for the next dreadful few hours. He must have waited a beat too long, for he felt Prompto’s hand on his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze.

“Hey, you got this,” he murmured, and Noctis managed a nod, urging his legs to take action; they were somehow still strong enough to get him into the room ahead, where crowds of clapping women stood in vibrantly coloured gowns and sparkling white jewelry. Noctis gave them a smile and a courteous bow, conscious of the violin music that started to play—a tune fit for dancing, no doubt.

“One at a time now. In an orderly fashion,” the guard announced.  
  
After a brief and not-so-subtle bout of elbowing one another, one wavy-haired brunette was shoved a step forward, away from her large group of friends. She stared wide-eyed at Noctis, cowering in her long yellow gown as if Noct were a long-horned garula. The king swallowed his own fears and offered her a hand.

“Would you care to dance?”

The girl babbled an incoherent response before smiling weakly and letting her delicate hand fall into the king’s larger one. Prompto nodded towards his liege before proceeding over to the right wall, where a glass door—which was accented with turquoise blue curtains—appeared to lead out to a balcony. He shifted his weight until he was steady and comfortable on his feet, then clasped his hands behind his back, ready for guard duty.

He took this moment to analyze the large room. To the left was the staircase where they had entered, the floor below still visible in the open stairwell. A golden banister wrapped around the circular perimeter. The floor was made up of cream and caramel-coloured tiles, which glistened under the chandelier lights, equally as shiny as the ballroom floor back at the Citadel. On the far wall across from Prompto was a small circular fountain, where water spouted up and trickled over two levels of stone. On either side of it were statues of the Tidemother, their bodies twisted in an intricate design and their heads resting against the fountain’s edge.

Vases of greenery were dispersed around the corners of the room, and turquoise and cream-coloured ribbons were twirled and hung along the walls, up near the ceiling. Close to the fountain were several small, round tables, decked out with velvet table-cloths, red roses, and tea sets. Most tables were already occupied with two or three women at each, while a few cliques still stood on the ballroom floor, watching the dancing couple with looks of both intrigue and jealousy. On the same wall as the fountain stood a blond-haired violinist, who played alongside a man at a grand piano, both clad in formal attire.

The right wall was lined with three buffet tables, all holding copious amounts of ordeurvs and fruit and desserts that Prompto would have been dying to try on a normal day, but right now, he didn’t have an appetite at all. Not with all those women gawking at the man that was supposed to be his. Not with Noct’s hands on another person.

The crowd applauded as the song ended, and Noctis and the young woman gave each other a respective bow and curtsy before the girl took off towards her friends, barely able to contain her excitement. Another woman stepped forward—this one with darker skin and short black hair, dressed in an elegant purple gown with shimmering white straps. Noctis greeted her much like he did the first, and invited her to dance, while Prompto found himself suddenly yearning for a drink.

It wasn’t until a few dances later that a thin blond woman in a royal blue dress approached Prompto with two champagne glasses in hand. Her hair was braided on one side and pulled back into a ponytail. Silver, triangular earrings hung from each ear, and her makeup was done to perfection, her lips a soft fuchsia.

“You look like you could use one of these,” she smiled, softly, offering Prompto a glass. His curious gaze met hers before he hesitantly relaxed his stance and accepted the offer, taking a sip as a sign of his appreciation.

“Everyone’s so excited to dance with the king. I hope it’s not too brazen of me to say, but you’re even easier on the eyes,” she said, playing with the stem of the olive in her glass. Prompto choked a little on the champagne, before mustering a small, flustered smile.

“I appreciate that, but I’m currently on guard duty, so I’m afraid dancing’s out of the question,” he shrugged.

“But talking’s okay?” the girl asked, lowering her head slightly, her flirting gaze remaining on Prompto.

“Uh, y-yeah, I guess that’s okay.”

The woman seemed satisfied with the response and took a sip of her drink, stepping a little closer to Prompto as they watched the king switch dance partners again.

“I’m Adeline, by the way,” the woman introduced herself. Prompto glanced sidelong at her and pushed forth another smile.

“I’m Prompto. Nice to meet you.”

“So, is this your first time to Accalia?”

“Yeah, it is. Beautiful place,” Prompto acknowledged.

“It is, especially now that we’re not under the empire’s control anymore,” Adeline nodded, continuing to play with the olive stem. Prompto felt something in his gut tighten.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, they just... made everyone so terrified with their strict ruling, and the way they hurt anyone who stepped out of line. A lot of people here had even closed up shop and gone into hiding, but...” The woman paused and sighed, her eyes falling closed for a brief moment, as if focusing on pushing those memories aside. “I’m just glad they’re gone now.”

Prompto shifted his weight, feet suddenly aching, and he took another sip of the champagne to dull the pain, but he could hardly taste it anymore.

“So... what’ll happen if Noct— If _the king_ marries someone from Accordo?” Prompto tried.

“Well, one benefit for Accordo is that we’ll have a new figure head. We don’t really have a monarch, so it would be nice to have a face to put on our gil, you know?” Adeline chuckled.

“There are other benefits, too, of course. After the Oracle died, the world lost its princess. A lot of young girls looked up to Lady Lunafreya, and I would hope that the new princess would be an inspiration to them, too. Seeing women in power can be really important. On top of that, uniting Accordo and Lucis would provide a feeling of safety for a lot of people.”

“So, for the most part, the people here trust Lucis?”

“Yeah, from what I’ve seen, at least. Though, I hear there are some dodgy places in Altissia where people feel differently.”

“Yeah,” Prompto said, numbly, remembering that night in Altissia when Noctis had been so mercilessly attacked. “I’ve heard that, too.” He took a much longer swig of his drink this time. The girl beside him smoothed a hand over the front of her long, straight gown.

“You sure you can’t spare a moment to dance?” she asked, eyes hopeful.

“I’m sorry,” Prompto replied, mouth twitching into a bittersweet smile.

“Well, I’ll be around if you change your mind,” Adeline nodded, expression warm even as she left Prompto and headed for one of the tables across the room. Prompto let out a sigh, but he didn’t feel relieved until he saw Noctis end his dance and head his way.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just having a five minute break while the musicians take a breather,” Noct said, coming to stand beside Prompto, close enough that their arms brushed. It wasn’t much, but it was contact they both needed to make it through the rest of the evening.  
  
There was tension throughout Noct’s body. Prompto could feel it, standing as close as they were.

“This is exhausting,” Noct whispered, helplessly. Prompto didn't acknowledge Noct’s discomfort, knowing that it would only make Noctis even less willing to face this night with an open mind.

“Hey, isn’t that—?” Prompto started.

Across the room was a girl who stood out from the rest, with a white knee-length dress and long blond hair a shade or two darker than Luna’s, which came down in soft waves to the middle of her back. She was chatting with a group of women who stood near the centre of the dance floor.

“That her? Claustra’s niece?” Prompto asked, recalling the brief description the secretary had given them.

“I think so,” Noctis nodded, as they both continued to stare—in awe of her beauty, and in fear of what this meant for them.  
  
Prompto felt his gut tighten again. Something felt so wrong about this, the way she was dressed like Luna, from her white dress to her high-heeled shoes. Was Accordo playing to Noctis’ weakness? Or was this girl innocently trying to win the king’s heart, just like everyone else here? Prompto didn’t want to wait and find out.

“I’ll be close by,” Prompto promised, heading for a buffet table where he could discard his empty champagne glass. He clasped his hands behind his back after that, and returned to his spot by the balcony door where he could stand and observe.  
  
He watched as Noctis waited for his chance to duck in and meet the lovely lady in white. When he finally caught her attention, her eyes lit up, and she gave him a smile.

“Greetings, Your Majesty. Are you enjoying your evening?” she asked, taking in the sight of the man clad in his elegant attire of black and dark teal.

“Yeah, I am. Thanks,” he fibbed.

“It’s such an honour to have you here. Though, I’ll admit, I’m still having a hard time believing my eyes. The king in my own estate. Are you sure you’re for real?” she grinned.

“As real as I get,” he shrugged.  
  
The young woman looked to the violinist, then to Noctis with a hopeful expression. Noctis nodded, giving a bow before her and offering a hand, knowing that if he did this, he could at least return to Ignis with a report he would like to hear, and not have to lie about it. One more dance wouldn’t change anything; its purpose was only for keeping up appearances.

“Sorry, I don’t think your aunt told me your name.”

“It’s Lila,” she said, with an amused smile, and accepted his hand as the music started up again.

Prompto couldn’t help but watch as they moved in towards each other, hands falling on shoulder and waist as they began to dance. He wondered if he and Noct had looked that good together when they’d danced the night of their prom. The other women Noctis had seen tonight didn’t hold a candle to Lila; they hadn’t given Prompto that feeling where he could _picture _them ruling together, but Lila was different.

She was stunning—he’d give her that. It was no wonder Ignis thought it would be ideal for Noctis to marry her. Such a gorgeous young couple was exactly what the public would want to see in a royal wedding. Lila was beautiful like Luna, the image of what a queen should be. That’s what the world was looking for, not someone like him.

Prompto felt his thoughts wandering to an even darker place, and part of him wanted to regret running to Noctis’ room all those months ago. If he hadn’t sought comfort in him that night, then maybe they wouldn’t be together now; maybe Prompto wouldn’t be in the way of what was best for Lucis—what he’d known was best all along. Ignis and the council would get what they wanted, Noct would get the bride he deserved, nations would unite, Lucis would be at peace; all Prompto had to do was step aside.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably, and he found himself in desperate need of air. He nearly knocked a girl over as he hurried over to Noctis, who had finished his dance and was continuing to chat quietly with Lila. Noct turned to look at him when he tapped him gently on the shoulder.

“Are you alright on your own for a minute? I need to step outside for a sec,” Prompto said, rather urgently, looking pale.

“Sure. Are you okay?” Noct asked, reaching for Prompto’s shoulder, but Prompto took a step back, avoiding his touch.

“Oh yeah. Just a little stuffy in here.”

Noctis watched in concern as Prompto turned and headed for the door of the balcony. His eyes lingered on the glass even when the reflections of the ballroom’s lights made it difficult to see his partner through the pane.

“Was that your guard?” Lila asked, from behind Noctis.

“Yeah,” Noct mumbled, his expression still crinkled with deep worry. He felt the girl come to stand at his side, staring after Prompto as well.

“Is he okay?” she asked, a touch of sympathy in her expression; Noct caught the look as he glanced at her.

“I… I think so,” he said, with bated breath.

Lila pushed forth a smile, and turned to Noctis again, reaching for his hand with both of her own. “I’m really glad you came here tonight, King Noctis. Like I said, it’s truly been an honour. Why don’t you and your guard stay a few days in Accalia? You and I could get to know each other better, and I could show you the sights.”

“Nn, I appreciate the offer, but—”

“This is your first time in the city, correct? It wouldn’t hurt to get to know it better, right? Especially since, the way my aunt tells it, you really want to help any regions you can.”

“I, well, yeah, that’s true,” Noct admitted.

“And besides, Lady Lunafreya would have wanted you to,” Lila said, softly, expression suddenly pained.

“What? Y-you knew Luna?”

“Yeah. Don’t you remember, ten years ago, she was here in Accordo? My aunt was keeping her safe. That’s what I was told, anyway. I was also told to keep her company, and we spent a lot of hours just talking.”

“What did she say?” Noctis asked, slowly, hesitantly.

“She talked about her brother, and about you. I told her a lot about Accordo. She spoke very fondly of you, King Noctis, and said for me to give you the grand tour of our city if you were ever to visit,” Lila smiled.

Noctis paused a second to take it all in. He could tell by her face that she was telling no lie. Besides, the events all fit. Luna _had _been in the secretary’s care back then. It made sense that she and Lila could have met. Declining this offer, if it truly was Luna’s wish, made Noct’s insides crawl.

Even apart from that, there was a benefit in staying. It wasn’t a bad idea to get a lay of the land, to see what state the city was in so he could at least see where his efforts were most needed. And besides, the longer he stayed, the more it would appease his council. At the very least, it might keep Ignis off his back for a while. If he went back home and declared he wasn’t interested in seeking out any potential brides, he had still completed his mission to ‘not close any doors’ while he was here.

“Please, Your Majesty?”

“Well, alright. I’ll have to make sure we can secure accommodations first, but—”

“Don’t be silly. You’re both welcome to stay here,” the girl said, with a wave toward the balcony where Prompto still stood.

“That’s very kind of you, but it’s not necessary.”

“I know it’s not _necessary_, but accept it, okay?” she playfully grinned.

“That’s...” Noctis sighed. “That’s very generous of you. Thanks.”

“Miss Lila?” came a voice from behind them. “Your aunt is downstairs, wondering if she may have a word with you,” said the guard who had introduced Noctis’ arrival earlier.

“Of course, she may,” Lila agreed, with a small nod at Noctis to excuse herself. Noctis didn’t bother to watch as she descended the stairs, but rather started for the balcony himself.

He found Prompto in solitude, his arms resting on the golden railing, his hands clasped together, head low in thought. Noctis moved in against his side, close enough so that their shoulders brushed. He stared up at the night sky, one hand on his hip, admiring the stars as he spoke.

“She asked us to stay for a few days so she could show me around Accalia,” Noct announced, and Prompto slowly turned his head to look at him, worry gleaming in his purple eyes that reflected the stars. Noct immediately got caught in them, mesmerized by their beauty.

“Don’t worry, okay? This doesn’t change a thing.” Prompto turned away, his eyes travelling back to the stars.

“It should,” Prompto whispered.

“Why?” Noct tested.

“There was some talk in there, about what happened when the imperials took over Accordo. My people sure did a lot of horrible things, huh?” he asked, weakly.

Noctis leaned his head forward, pushing it into Prompto’s line of view so he couldn’t possibly ignore him.

“Since when is Niflheim ‘your people’? I mean, sure, you were born there, but you’re a Lucian,” Noct said, frowning.

“And proud to _be_ a Lucian. But Niflheim… It’s a part of me, too. And it’s not something I can just forget,” Prompto said, before turning to properly meet Noctis’ eyes. “And it’s been bothering me ever since that meeting, Noct... what you said. Any union between us would be considered to be between Lucis and Niflheim.”

“I—” Noct started, but quickly found himself hesitating.  
  
He’d let his dreams and messages from the Astrals decide things for him. He had taken matters into his own hands, figuring out the best way to make the world accept them. He’d been strategizing, analyzing, perfecting, but that wasn’t fair to Prompto. It wasn’t fair to play his origins to his advantage when marriage was something they’d hardly ever discussed.

“That was only for political reasons. And only if you’re comfortable with it. You’re a Lucian in both your heart and mine,” Noctis assured him, but Prompto still seemed perturbed. He looked so sad, and was keeping so quiet.

“Is this about Lila?” Noctis tried, softly.

“It’s about everything. You two... You looked good together. Like you and Luna would have,” Prompto smiled, meekly, looking absolutely exhausted.

“I didn’t_ love_ her, Prompto,” Noct reminded him, brows twisted in concern.

“No. But you love your kingdom. And a union between Lucis and Accordo would be a really good thing. You’ve already got people from Niflheim relocating to Lucis because they trust you. A lot of Niflheim _trusts _you, Noct, so it’s probably way more beneficial for you to earn back the trust of Accordo, especially after Leviathan,” Prompto explained.  
  
Both fell silent after that—Prompto waiting for an answer, and Noctis refusing to give one. There was nothing he could say right now that was going to convince Prompto otherwise; he was too upset.

“Are you feeling okay, Prom? You don’t seem yourself,” Noctis murmured, reaching for Prompto’s bangs. He brushed his fingers lightly through them before pushing them aside, and feeling for a temperature. Prompto seemed to have paled even more at the question, but he remained still and calm under the feel of Noctis’ skin.

“I... I’m sorry, Noct. I’m just tired, I guess. It was a long trip,” Prompto breathed. Noctis supposed he could understand that. It felt like forever ago that they had left Insomnia—even forever ago that they had gotten off the train.

“Okay, well, we can turn in, if you want. Since Lila’s keeping us here for a few days, there’s no need for me to mingle any more tonight,” Noctis offered.  
  
Part of Prompto wanted to tell Noctis that he should continue mingling anyway, because maybe he and Lila—or even some other girl—would hit it off, and they would get their fairytale ending. The sad and lonely part of him very much preferred the idea of Noctis pressed up against his back as he fell asleep. Still, he sided with the more ‘rational’ part of his brain.

“Claustra said to be sure to mingle with everyone. Wouldn’t want to leave a girl out when a dance with the king could be the highlight of her life,” Prompto shrugged, in defeat.  
  
Noctis slowly lowered his hand from Prompto’s forehead, and checked in his eyes once more for any undiscovered signs of what was bothering him. When he found nothing but the fatigue Prompto had expressed, he gave a small, tender smile.

“You head back to the room and get some sleep, okay? I won’t be long.”

“But what about—?”

“I’ve got the Armiger at my fingertips, okay? I’ll be fine on my own for a little while,” Noctis assured him.  
  
Prompto really did look like he needed the rest; he was like a dead man walking. Noctis would rather have him on top of his game to guard him when they went out on the town tomorrow, as it seemed far more dangerous than the current ballroom scene. Prompto still appeared hesitant.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell Ignis or Gladio that you let me out of your sight,” Noct smirked.

“Fine.” Prompto let out a heavy breath, and spun to head for the door, but Noctis caught the cuff of his sleeve, making them meet gazes again.

“Hey, I love you,” Noctis reminded him, eyes full of tenderness and commitment. Prompto lowered his head.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, voice barely present.

* * *

There had been a lot of days that Prompto wished he could forget—the day he’d fallen flat on his face in front of Noctis as a kid, the day he’d gotten his Crownsguard uniform and discovered his parents weren’t even home to see it. Of course, the days spent in Zegnautus Keep took the cake, but these days in Accalia were a close second.

For three days, he followed Noctis and Lila around, hardly saying a word. He was like the awkward third wheel on a date, guarding Noctis while he and Lila were supposed to pretend he wasn’t even there. It was frustrating and awful to watch Noctis chat with her, laugh with her, converse over a bowl of gelato with her.

He knew Noctis wasn’t his territory. He didn’t own him, but the words to tell Lila to back off rose into his throat and had to be swallowed back down on more than one occasion. He tried to tell himself that this was what he wanted—a normal life for Noctis—but it hurt all the same.

When they retreated to their shared room at the end of the third day, Prompto was noticeably quiet. He sat on the bed, reclining back on one hand, and avoiding Noctis’ gaze as Noct puttered around the room. It didn’t take long for Noctis to come and kneel before him, his hands reaching out to massage Prompto’s knees, and drawing his hesitant gaze towards him. Prompto was slightly surprised to see such worried grey eyes staring up at him.

“Talk to me. I feel like I haven’t heard your voice all day,” Noct murmured, an undisguised longing in his tone. Prompto turned his head and lowered his eyes to the bed below him in what was probably either embarrassment or shame. Or maybe just pain.

“Prompto, I know these past few days have really sucked for you, but I promise you nothing’s changed between us, and nothing will. Being with Lila further proved that,” Noct vowed, his words reflecting both those of Prompto’s best friend from high school and the eloquent king he’d become. Prompto slowly dragged his gaze back to Noctis, his eyes silently begging his partner for something, even though Noct didn’t know what he should give.

Cautiously, Noctis rose to his feet, moving slowly as if Prompto were a frightened animal. Tenderly, he cupped the sides of his face, and leaned in to capture his lips. Prompto made a weak noise, but quickly settled into the kiss, enjoying the heat of their intermingling breaths. They continued to share a few more gentle pecks before Prompto pulled back slightly.

“You should choose her,” he whispered, the shock of those words jolting Noctis like an electric current, almost making him let go of Prompto’s face. Finally, he’d said something, but it was far from anything Noctis wanted to hear.

“I don’t want to,” Noct whispered back, still so close their noses touched.

“But you should.”

“But you know you’re my everything, right?” Prompto pulled back at Noctis’ words, looking tearful, and Noct slowly let his hands fall from Prompto’s face.  
  
He found his hand instead, and kept it safe within his grasp. He brushed his thumb over the knuckles while he continued to watch Prompto’s sullen expression, his downcast eyes and trembling mouth. How was he ever going to prove that Prompto was good enough? Was that horrible idea just ingrained in him for good? Or was there something Noctis could do to change it?

“Will you come outside with me?” Noctis asked, bringing Prompto’s hand to his mouth, lips grazing over the skin in a soft caress.

“I’m tired, Noct. Can it wait ‘til morning?”

“No, please? Just come with me?”

Despite how weary Prompto was, he allowed Noctis to pull him up from the bed and lead him to the glass door of their own private balcony. It was dark, the light emanating from the room inside illuminating their forms with the help of the moon. The view was even more incredible here than it had been from the ballroom below. They could just make out the forms of intricate rocks and luscious green vines that seemed to go on and on.

“Do you know how hard it is to_ pretend_ to pay attention to someone?” Noct asked, staring out into the black night. “Insanely hard. I thought I was gonna fall asleep at the gelato shop.”

The corner of Prompto’s lips perked upward at the sound of Noct’s teasing voice. It did make him feel a little better to know their own gelato date six months ago had been more to the king’s liking. It didn’t surprise him either that Noct had been struggling to stay awake; he’d looked dozy and unfocused that day, and the conversation about different nations’ politics had dragged on for far too long, in Prompto’s opinion.

After another minute or so of staring out into the darkness, Noctis turned to Prompto, pulling both of his hands into his own.

“You _are _my everything, Prompto. No pretty girls, or even pretty _boys_, for that matter, are ever going to change that,” Noctis promised him, with a small smirk. Prompto allowed himself a small chuckle through his nose, and lowered his head until Noct spoke again.

“I wanted to talk to you again... about the Niflheim thing. Look, I’m sorry if I put you in an awkward position the other day when I said that about our union being between Lucis and Niflheim. Sometimes, I get ahead of myself when I think about our future, but that’s only because I want this to work _so badly_.”

“I get why you did,” Prompto nodded. “It was your way of earning Niflheim’s trust. Of uniting nations. And that’s a good thing, it’s just... There are parts of me that... that still aren’t okay with where I came from.” Prompto closed his eyes as he felt a pang in his chest, the reality of his situation digging into his skin, trying its best to claw its way into his already aching heart.

“Then marry me as a Lucian. I don’t care as long as you’re with me.”

“Marry you,” Prompto repeated, incredulously, watching the look on Noct’s face as it transformed from desperate to thoughtful to determined.

“Yeah. Marry me.” Noctis paused, gaze flickering to the sky for courage before it returned to Prompto. Prompto gaped as the man got down on one knee, his heart lurching with pain as the claws made their way inside him, pulse racing.

“I never imagined I’d do this tonight, but...” Noct started.

Prompto was full of panic, full of dread, all for this moment that should have been the happiest of his life. Noctis continued to grasp his hands within his own, thumbs stroking them tenderly as he turned his gaze up to meet wide eyes.

“Prompto Argentum? Will you marry me?”


	12. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Possible trigger warning - There is some mention of PTSD in this chapter, so please skim over it if you need to. Thanks!

“Prompto Argentum? Will you marry me?”

Prompto’s eyes were wide and watery, but as he continued to stand there, breathing shakily through his open mouth, Noct began to worry that those weren’t tears of joy or excitement. He could feel his heart thumping against his rib-cage as he waited for any sort of response. Forever seemed to pass as he crouched there, his knee starting to ache against the concrete.

“I… I can’t, Noct,” Prompto said, weakly, pulling his hands free and pressing one to his mouth. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

With that, he turned and pulled the balcony door open, hurrying back inside the bedroom, leaving Noct dumbstruck and heartbroken as he slowly got to his feet. The adrenaline that had been in his veins seemed to dwindle within seconds, leaving him feeble and drained. He stumbled sideways and leaned his arms against the railing, taking in a long, deep breath as he turned his head toward the sky. He wondered where he’d gone wrong.   
  
Had he moved too fast? Had he not quelled Prompto’s fears enough in the past? Was a promise to love him forever still not enough to make him feel worthy? Was it not enough to let him know he would always be the correct choice for the king of Lucis, the correct choice for his longtime friend and highschool sweetheart, the correct choice for _his Noct_?

Noctis silently asked his father for strength and guidance, breathing in the night air and hoping to feel his presence. He couldn't say for certain that he did, but after a few long minutes, he at least felt prepared enough to tackle the conversation ahead. It wasn’t too late to fix this. He could still settle Prompto’s nerves, could take away his fears, could prove his everlasting devotion to him. Proposing wasn’t a mistake, Noctis told himself. Something that felt so right could never be a mistake.

He quietly pulled open the balcony door and closed it behind him, spotting Prompto through the open doorway of the bathroom. His hands were situated on either side of the sink as he stared down into it. Noctis tread carefully to the doorway and leaned against the frame, earning a sideways glance from a red-faced Prompto. His wet lashes indicated that he’d been fighting tears, and hadn’t been entirely successful.

“Can we talk?” Noctis asked, softly, ignoring his nerves that told him he didn’t actually want to, and focusing on the fact that he had to. He _did _want to get to the bottom of this, to know what exactly was holding Prompto back. Prompto nodded numbly, reaching for a towel and pressing his face into it, dabbing it dry.

“I’m sorry if I upset you. I just… I thought things had been great between us over the past several months.”

“They were,” Prompto assured him, meekly.

“I know, maybe I’m moving a little fast here, but I know my feelings for you aren’t going to change, and I thought we were both on the same page about that, so I have to ask… Do you really not want to?” Noct asked, weakly.   
  
Prompto finished with the towel, and set it down on the counter, meeting Noct’s eyes. Even with his dried tears, he didn’t look any less miserable.

“Let’s go sit down, okay?” Prompto suggested, with a wave toward the bedroom. “This might take a while.”

Noct nodded in agreement and they headed into the next room. They switched off the bathroom and main light, and closed the curtains on the way, just in case this talk exhausted them too much to complete even those simple tasks afterwards. Noctis turned on the lamp that was screwed into the wall beside the bed, filling the room with a soft yellow glow.

Prompto ditched the coat of his Kingsglaive uniform, letting it fall to the floor, and not bothering to care about the wrinkles it would probably have tomorrow. He pulled his knees up against his chest and leaned back against the headboard, waiting for Noct to speak again. Noctis perched himself on the edge of the bed just in front of him, reaching for his socked feet and rubbing gently.

“Do you not feel worthy?” Noctis tried, longing to meet Prompto’s eyes. Prompto simply kept his gaze on Noct’s thumb as it moved across the tops of his feet. “Or do you not feel what I feel? Or is this just not the future you want for yourself? I can understand if you don’t want to be a king’s consort for the rest of your life. I know that’s a lot for me to ask of you.”

“The rest of my life…” Prompto repeated vacantly, then gave a weak chuckle. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?” he said, mostly to himself, knowing Noctis wouldn’t yet understand. Still, his words had sparked a new look of worry in Noct’s eyes—Noct, who watched so very carefully as Prompto took in a breath.

“I really don’t know how to tell you this,” Prompto sighed. “I’ve been deceiving you, Noct. I’ve probably even been lying to you.”

“Prompto… What the hell is going on?” Noct asked, quietly, his voice low and scared, his eyes holding no hostility, but simply fear.   
  
Prompto put his hands over his face and rubbed it with a sharp intake of breath, trying to buy himself a bit more time. Unable to bear the frightened look in Noct’s eyes, he gracefully swung his legs over the side of the bed and got to his feet. With his gaze on the floor, and his arms wrapped around himself for support, he began to pace.

“I guess it all started not long after you disappeared. That’s… when the nightmares started,” he explained, softly. Noct followed him with worried eyes as he walked back and forth along the side of the bed, his strides long and slow.

”After a while, when the dreams wouldn’t stop, I got in touch with Iggy and Gladio, and asked them if they’d learned much about MTs during their Crownsguard training. They said they didn’t, but… Ardyn had said a lot of things to me while I was in the Keep, and I didn’t want to ignore them, just in case they were true. So, Ignis and some other researchers looked into it for me. They investigated the base where Aranea found me.”

“Why? What did Ardyn say? What did the researchers find?”

“Well, that’s the part I’m having trouble with,” Prompto shivered, halting in his steps and giving Noct a sorrowful look that brought Noct to his feet.

“What happened?” he urged, reaching for Prompto’s shoulders, and shaking them a little harder than he’d intended. The lamplight made the tears in Prompto’s eyes shimmer clearly, creating coloured spectrums as they caught the light.

“Noct, I don’t have that many years left,” he breathed, giving a tiny shrug. He felt almost relieved, until he realized Noct was still clueless as to what he meant.

““What?” Noctis asked, but his voice was so feeble now. He wanted to step closer to Prompto, but he was frozen in place, watching as Prompto fell deathly silent, his face pale and scared.

“What do you mean, you don’t have that many years left?”

Prompto lowered his gaze, one hand clutching instinctively at his opposite arm and rubbing timidly. Noct was able to move a foot forward, but the other leg remained so tense, he couldn’t seem to get it off the floor.

“Prompto, are... are you sick?” he exhaled, voice so meek it was barely audible. Prompto shook his head, and turned his gaze toward the balcony, its curtains swaying slightly from the tiny draft created by the crack between the doors.

“Ignis and the others found some documents in the facility. Turns out MTs… don’t have a very long lifespan. That includes me,” Prompto said with a shudder, and Noctis’ eyes widened in horrified shock. “I’m sorry,” he added in a whisper, shaking his head in some sort of desperate apology.

“H-how long?” Noct choked out, his own face having lost its colour by now.

“Huh?”

“How long do you have?!” his voice rang out more fiercely. Prompto flinched at the tone, but found the confidence to keep his eyes locked with Noct’s, wanting to give him his answer; he had dodged it for far too long.

”I’m not expected to live much past forty. Which gives me…”

“Nine years?” Noct closed his eyes tightly, the words making him sick as they rushed past his tongue. He was suddenly lightheaded, and reached for the edge of the bed for the support to keep himself upright.

“Maybe ten,” Prompto shrugged, his voice low, and not nearly as hopeful as Noctis would have liked.   
  
Noct opened his eyes again to take in the sight of Prompto—his beautiful, loving, irreplaceable Prompto—giving him the most desolate and apologetic look he had ever seen. His sad eyes peered up at him while his head hung low, the corners of his mouth twitching downward as if he were fighting tears.

“N-no. No, we’ll fix this. There must be something we can do to stop this,” Noctis said, confidently.

“There’s no cure for something like this, Noct. It’s all in the way I was made.”

Noctis felt like someone had pulled his very heart from his chest, leaving nothing but an aching hole filled with pain and sorrow in its wake. He felt the rage and grief inside him rising and swirling like a tempest, and he searched for something or someone to blame. He felt himself hating the crystal that had stolen him from Prompto, that had separated them for ten precious years of their lives. He wanted to hate Prompto’s barcode, wanted to hate his creators, hate Niflheim, but he stopped himself before he could go down that road. Without them, there would have been no Prompto at all. Besides, hate never fixed anything.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Noctis asked, chin trembling.

“There was no time, Noct. You came back, only to save the world right away, and I—“

“I mean after that! After I survived that! The past fourteen months, you couldn’t find a spare minute to tell me?”

“I was going to tell you when we were in Altissia together, that night when Aranea showed up, but you said you didn’t want to hear any more bad news, so I kept my mouth shut.”

“_This _is what you’ve been hiding from me?! For _that long_?!” Noct cried out, a new wave of dizziness hitting him. Part of him just wanted to drop to his knees and weep.

“That’s not the only time I tried, Noct, but we always got interrupted, or—“

“Stop it, Prompto! Are you…” Noctis’ voice cut out, and he pressed his knuckles to his lips as he fought to regain his composure, refusing to let any tears fall until this discussion was over. “Are you really saying that you couldn’t find any opportunity over the past year… this _whole year_… to tell me?”

“I really couldn’t!” Prompto squeaked, almost pleadingly.

“Why not?!”

“Because…” he breathed. He lowered his head even further, letting out a few deep breaths before he could let himself speak again. When he did, his voice was back down to its usual register. “Because I realized there was no good time to break your heart, Noct.”

The words themselves felt like they had torn Noctis’ heart in two, and he turned his head toward the ceiling, blinking back tears that he knew would have fallen had he not done so. He tried to steady his breathing, but he felt like it was being controlled by some outside force, nowhere within his realm of direction. He brought his hands to his face, rubbing somewhat furiously as if that might help fight off his emotions.

“Who knows altogether?” he mumbled, eventually lowering his hands, his head slowly following.

“Ignis, of course. A couple of researchers from Lucis. Gladio and Fae know, too. And maybe a few others.”

“You told Fae and you didn’t tell me?” Noctis asked, weakly, his eyes saddening.

“She was at the hunters’ camp with me when Ignis returned from the base. If I had known what he was going to tell me that day, I would have tried to protect her from it, too.”

“Not that protecting people from the truth is turning out great for you now…” Noct muttered. The disdain in his voice cut through the solemnity of the moment, the bitter tone making Prompto frown.

“Why are you so threatened by her? Is it because I was able to make a friend besides you? Because I had to find myself a new family? You were gone for ten years, Noct! Gladio, Ignis, and all the glaives and hunters, they became my family! They were all I had! Did you want me to be alone?”

“No!” Noct cried, realizing his grief and guilt and regret were coming out in a myriad of emotions now, some of which were probably not the most rational. “No, of course I didn’t,” he whispered.   
  
Of course, he never wanted Prompto of all people to feel alone. Once they had become friends, he had tried everything in his power to make sure Prompto never felt lonely again. He knew loneliness all too well himself. How could he possibly have expected Prompto to keep a secret this deep and dark from the people who had become his support system during his absence?

“Then you must understand how I feel,” Prompto said, with a small shrug. “I lived in a world without you, and it sucked. The only thing that got me through was my makeshift family, and the belief that you would have wanted me to keep going. I wanted to make you proud of what I was doing—fighting to keep people safe. Fighting for Lucis.”

“And I _am_ proud,” Noctis nodded, swallowing hard. “But, the fact that you hid this for so long, the fact that you told people besides me... it just makes me wonder. Am I..._ not trustworthy_?” Noct asked, hoarsely, and Prompto’s eyes slanted in sorrow.

“Why would you say that?” he whispered, his voice nowhere within reach.

“Because. You knew how messed up I was after Insomnia fell. My dad hid what he knew about the treaty signing. He didn’t say a thing about it to me… _He_ didn’t confide in me about it being a trap, and _you_ didn’t confide in me about this.”

Prompto sucked in a shaky breath and reached out for Noctis’ hands, pulling them into his own and hoping the contact would make Noct feel connected to him, and really listen to what he had to say next.

“It’s not because I didn’t trust you, Noct. I think your dad and I just had the same way of thinking… that seeing you sad or hurt is about the worst thing in the world, and hiding was just easier than having to put you through this kind of pain.”   
  
Noctis nodded in response, gaze pointed toward the floor, but even as Prompto searched his eyes, he found that that gaze was unfocused, empty. After a second, they flickered back to life, like a revelation hit him.

“Is this why you were avoiding me all that time? You thought this distance would make me… not miss you as much?”

“Yeah. Like an idiot, I did,” Prompto agreed, intending to force a chuckle, but discovering he didn’t have the strength. Instead, he pressed on.   
  
“Remember when you said you’d made your peace? When you thought you had to sacrifice yourself to bring back the light? Well, I’ve made my peace, too. With this. I mean, I _had_, at least. I was okay with being a good hunter, with helping out the world as best I could, and when my time came, I would at least die knowing I’d done all I could to help people. Once I realized you were back for good, I wanted you to focus on the friends and kingdom you have around you, and the family you could have in the future, so that you might be okay to live in a world without _me_,” Prompto explained.  
  
Noctis felt each remaining piece of his broken heart cracking like shards of glass, and falling into the abyssal hole in his chest. He clutched Prompto’s hands tighter, pressing his lips hard together as his chin trembled with emotion.

“I will _never _be okay without you,” Noct whimpered, blue eyes glossing over with tears. Prompto gave him a bittersweet smile.   
  
Such a statement was endearing, but he hoped with all his heart it wasn’t true. In time, he believed Noctis would find a way to live contentedly without him. Maybe it wouldn’t be easy, and maybe some days would be beyond painful, but Noctis was strong. He would make it.

“I will admit, it was easier to be okay with all of this before you came back. Now... things are just so good again. I don’t want to leave so much now that you’re back,” Prompto admitted, cocking his head to the side with a small, sad smile.   
  
Noct lowered his head, unable to see that smile without feeling like he was dying. He focused on swallowing, on breathing, on the feel of Prompto’s hands—anything to keep him from thinking too hard and breaking down completely.

“Once we got back together, I didn’t want things to change, and I knew they might if I told you. I didn’t want you to worry about me, because this _really is _an important time for you to be focusing on your duties,” Prompto went on, and Noctis blinked again, his eyes staying closed for longer than normal, and when he opened them again, Prompto could see the damp, stickiness of his lashes.

“How could I _not_ worry, even when you weren’t telling me? I knew _something_ was up. For the longest time, I thought you were dealing with post traumatic stress from whatever Ardyn did to you. I thought if I was patient, you would come around, and you did. But, I guess I was still in the dark about what was really going on,” Noctis said, closing his eyes tightly again, as if in pain. Prompto brushed his thumbs over the backs of Noct’s hands, his tearful eyes meeting his partner’s.

“I think it _is_ partly post traumatic stress, you know? I mean, I still have nightmares about everything that happened there. I’ve never been able to get those memories out of my head. Of being captured, tortured... But the worst was when he told me...” Prompto heard Noctis gulp, or perhaps it was a smothered sob. Still, he was so close to letting these dark truths out, he couldn’t stop now. It was best for both of them if he finally got his story out in the open.

“When Ardyn was holding me captive, sometimes he used to grab my face in his hands, lean in real close, and tell me that I’d better hope my prince gets there in time, before my body gives out. At first, I thought he meant from the torture or starvation, but then he’d give me all these little hints that there was something wrong with me. Then one day he came right out and said that people who were created the way I was don’t have a very good shot at a long life... That a clone like me probably wouldn’t get to grow old.”

Noctis watched him with wide, tearful eyes that trembled as Prompto spoke.

“Being there was the worst experience I’ve ever had, and that’s all part of why it was so hard to tell you,” he whimpered, and he watched the way Noctis stood staring at him, scared and quiet, his breathing soft and short like he was afraid he might startle Prompto with any sound or movement. He drank in every word, letting every painful fact Prompto had told him settle in his brain before his next question slipped out.

“But you told the others, didn’t you?”

“Not that part. I... never told_ anyone_ that part,” he whispered, before tears emerged full-force.   
  
He slapped the back of his hand against his mouth, hoping to hold back his emotions, but it was no use. He had been holding this secret in for far too long, and being in the midst of this moment with Noct was the exact thing he had been dreading more than anything he could ever remember. The worst part wasn’t the fact that he was dying; it was the fact that he was disappointing Noctis this way, and knowing that he’d lied to, and deceived, and broken the heart of the person he adored above all else.

Noctis figured out how to move again, suddenly needing to be as close to his loved one as possible. He closed the empty space between them in no time at all, catching Prompto as the man stumbled past him in a fit of emotion. He would have flopped back onto the bed if it weren’t for Noct’s quick action. Now, Prompto was leaned backwards with Noct bent forward over him, one of the king’s hands resting in the arch of his back, and the other cradling the back of his neck before he could hit the mattress.

“Whoa, easy, you’re okay,” Noctis murmured softly, not completely sure where he’d found his voice, but grateful that he had.   
  
Prompto wept softly against his chest, his hand clutching at the front of Noctis’ suit. Noctis merely whispered gentle words to him, and slowly leaned back upright, bringing Prompto with him. He continued to hold him close, hands settling in place, and fingers stroking gently.

“You shouldn’t take any of this as a slight against you, Noct,” Prompto croaked, between shaking breaths. “It was just so hard to talk about, and… I don’t know. I should have just told you.”

Noctis shushed him, softly.

“It’s gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be okay,” he promised, his voice breaking as the first of his tears broke free. Prompto thanked him for the generosity and soothing words by letting go of the front of his clothing, and wrapping his arms around his back instead, holding him close in return.   
  
They stood there in a tearful state as the minutes passed. As soon as one of them got themselves under control, they would feel the other lose their composure, bodies trembling in each other’s arms, and quiet sniffles filling the room. Eventually, Noctis pulled back, his red, wet eyes meeting his partner’s.

“You want to sit?”   
  
Prompto nodded a response, and they travelled toward the bed, hands remaining on backs until they were close enough to sit down. The two sat resting against the headboard, and leaned their heads to the side to rest together, hands intertwining atop their thighs. They stared at the bedspread, the wall ahead, anything but each other. The sounds of shaky breaths and suppressed sobs fought off what would have been a dreadfully eery silence.   
  
As the emotions eventually died down, Prompto reached for the television remote on the nightstand and flicked it on, merely to keep the tension at a tolerable level. The orange glow of the screen worked to provide a small source of comfort in this otherwise grim atmosphere. Noctis held an arm around Prompto’s back, his hand massaging his shoulder gently as they continued to rest with their heads together. He tried hard to focus on the tacky sitcom that Prompto had put on to distract them, but the sound of laughter at a time like this made Noct sick to his stomach.

So, he hadn’t been wrong about the post traumatic stress, it seemed. He’d merely missed the depth of it. He’d been so suspicious after seeing the way Prompto had reacted to the night terrors that interrupted his sleep, the way he’d avoided him, the way he’d secretly been stocking up on the Ghaladian alcohol and begun drinking through the day. He’d noticed the change in Prompto’s personality—his lack of energy and optimism, the way he’d stopped taking as many photos as he used to, as if the desire to do so wasn’t as fervent. He knew they were all the right signs, but to think that all of this had been rooted way back in that time in Zegnautus Keep, and that Ardyn of all people had been the one to tell Prompto that his time was running out… It made him completely nauseated.

“What’re you thinking about?” Prompto queried, turning his head enough to nuzzle his nose against Noct’s stubbled jaw. Noct continued to stare numbly ahead. Their tears had dried against their cheeks now, but it hadn’t made either of them feel much better.

“That this can’t be happening?” Noct said, his voice having regained its usual volume, but his tone was so defeated. Prompto squeezed his hand, and turned his head back to lean against Noct’s again, his eyes returning to the TV.

“Can I help? I mean, is there anything I can do to make this easier?” he asked, voice so delicate, careful not to break Noct any further.  
  
For the first time all evening, Noctis felt himself chuckle ever so softly, for this was his Prompto—not the sad, scared, distant Prompto he’d been dealing with tonight and over the past several months, but the Prompto who had done everything he could for him over the years, all to make his life better.

“I should be asking _you_ that question,” Noctis hummed. With a sigh, he leaned over to press a kiss to Prompto’s hair, earning him a small, innocent smile that made his tight insides uncurl just a little; it was a sight he was always happy to see, especially now, under these circumstances.

“Honestly, though, is it okay if I go downstairs for a bit? I just... need a few minutes to myself to absorb all of this, alright?” Noct asked, gently.

“Yeah, of course, Noct,” Prompto said, smile weakening. Noctis gave him an apologetic look as he pulled away. He got up from the bed and headed for the doorway, kicking his feet into his dress shoes before exiting, leaving a nervous Prompto alone with his thoughts.

* * *

_ “Hey, Talcott,” Noct greeted, finding the young man in front of the vault, his grandfather’s trusty journal laying open in his hands as he continued trying combinations. The basement appeared to be empty apart from the two of them, with Ignis elsewhere and the guard on break. Noctis was thankful for his timing, as he’d been hoping for this moment of privacy._

_ “Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” Talcott smiled. “How are you faring?”_

“_I'm great. Thanks,” Noct smiled back, but it faded into an expression far more anxious as he came to stand before him. “So, did you find anything? About… what we discussed before?”_

_ “Yes. I found that you _are _free to choose a mate. Just as you’d hoped, your power as king grants you such a decision,” Talcott smiled._

_ “You serious? Wait, is there a catch? There must be a catch.”_

“_Well, while each Lucian monarch is free to choose during their rule, in order for the marriage law for the Lucian royal line to be changed for all upcoming monarchs, the decision must have the approval of at least three Lucian kings, proof of which must be witnessed and agreed to by the Lucian council or government,” Talcott explained._

_ “_ _Okay, so I would need proof of two other kings—as well as myself—wanting to change this law for, say, any potential heirs. But as far as Prompto and I are concerned, we’re free to marry right now, regardless?”  
  
“That’s correct, _ _Your Majesty. Things are in your favour.”_

_Noct beamed, his breath momentarily getting stuck in his lungs with the excitement and incredulity of the news. He let out a chuckle. “Ah, you have no idea what a relief that is.”_

“_I’m glad you’re pleased, Your Majesty.”_

“_I am. And hey, I’m sorry if this was awkward for you to look into, I just… needed someone knowledgeable about this stuff. __I couldn’t ask Iris without it getting back to Gladio, you know? And I don’t want my friends to know just yet. Besides,__ I knew you’d be supportive,” Noct said, placing a hand on Talcott’s shoulder in gratitude._

“_I am, Your Majesty. I have a deep respect for both you and Prompto, and am honoured to help out in any way I can.”_

“_In that case, would you like to help me pick out a ring?” Noct s__miled, sheepishly._

* * *

“_Maybe this isn’t my place, Your Majesty, but do you think Prompto will be okay with you__r__ propos__al__, given his status?” Talcott asked, and Noctis frowned, inquisitively, not quite understanding._

_ “His status? You mean, because of his origins? I don’t see why not,” Noctis replied, not realizing the depth of the question._

_ “I just… wouldn’t want him to say no. But like I said, this is probably none of my business. I’m sorry for saying anything,” Talcott stammered, reddening slightly._

_ “Don’t be. I appreciate the concern, but I think we’ve talked through everything that needs discussing. If I’m right about his feelings for me, I don’t see any reason why he wouldn’t say yes,” Noctis smiled, softly, regarding the silver ring with proud eyes as he held it up above his head, watching it glisten in the store’s bright lights. He hoped Prompto would like it._

* * *

Noctis wandered down the hallway until he reached the spiral staircase. Slowly he descended until he came to a landing, where a suit of armour stood across from a large glass window, which gave a view of the world outside, painted in black. He wandered to the window, resting both hands on the white railing before it. He gripped the railing tightly, until his clenched fingers started to shake. He lowered his head as the sting of tears returned, and with a muffled sound that he fought to hold back, he cried—for how oblivious he’d been, for how pushy and desperate he’d been acting. He cried for his beloved Prompto.

He’d imagined this night being one of the best of his life—proposing to Prompto in a beautiful city at night, having him say yes and leaping into each other’s arms, talking about their future in the peaceful afterglow of their love. Could it be any more opposite? Prompto saying he couldn’t marry him, fleeing from the scene, the only intimate contact being tearful hugs, and finding out that for Prompto, there was barely a future at all…

Digging his phone out of his pocket, Noctis dialed his advisor’s number through blurry eyes, barely managing to see the screen clearly enough to make the call. It rang, and rang, and Noctis stared blankly out at the black sky, lips twitching downward until Ignis picked up.

“Noct? Is something wrong?”

“Is Gladio there, too?” Noct choked out, failing to disguise the fact that he was crying. Ignis paused on the other end, probably trying to figure out what he should do as he heard his king’s broken voice.

“One moment, Noct,” he said, and Noctis stifled a sob as he listened to the shuffling on the other end as Gladio got situated, and Ignis switched his settings to speakerphone.

“I’m here, too, Noct. What’s up?” came Gladio’s worried voice.

“It’s Prompto. He told me… about what you found at the magitek facility.” The pause on the other end was longer this time, and Noct reminded himself to breathe as he waited for his glaives’ responses.

“What do you mean?” Ignis asked.

“He told me he had you do some research. You found documents saying that MTs… that people created the way he was...” Noct trailed off, as he failed to suppress another sob. He closed his eyes tightly, waiting and hoping for the men to calm him down.

“How much d’he tell you?” Gladio mumbled, voice low and hesitant. Noct could picture the looks Ignis and Gladio were giving each other in that moment—so stunned, so worried and scared.

“That he’s going to die. That he’s got nine, maybe ten years to live?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Ignis murmured after a moment. “Prompto said he informed you of this while you two were travelling together to Galahd and Altissia.”   
  
Noctis’ eyes widened in surprise.

“What?! Then he lied!”   
  
Silence filled the other end again, as the two shocked glaives tried to rationalize what had happened. Both hesitated, trying to figure out what they could possibly say next that wouldn’t upset their desolate king further.

“I am so sorry, Noct. I double-checked with him, as I feared he was being dishonest at first, but I was confident after speaking with him in private that he truly had told you.”

“Well, he didn’t. Not a word,” Noctis shook his head.

“Then I’m… terribly afraid I missed the mark on that one,” Ignis said, regretfully, remembering how closely he had listened for any indication that Prompto had been lying to him that day. He’d liked to think that his senses were keener than this, but he supposed that missing Prompto’s facial cues had led to his mis-assessment this time.

“Why? Why the hell would he do this?” Noct cried, hopelessly now, his voice adopting the half-sad, half-angry holler that used to take over when speaking of his father’s death.

“He wasn’t trying to hurt you, Noct. If he hid this from you, it was because he was trying to _protect_ you,” Gladio tried to console. 

“Yes, Prompto cares very deeply for people. If he believed that this news would hurt you, then I’m sure it was difficult for him to even consider putting you through it,” Ignis added, voice saddening with the last of his words.

“I know. He’s been saying all the same things, but I just don’t… I don’t get it, and I… I can’t breathe,” Noctis whimpered, panicking as he tried to suck in air and couldn’t. How could _his _Prompto deceive not only him, but his friends as well? Had ten years apart really made him forget that he could trust them—trust _him_—with anything?

“Easy, Noct,” Gladio said, softly. “Take it easy. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Slow, steady breaths,” Ignis instructed. Noctis closed his eyes and focused on filling and emptying his lungs at a regular pace. Once he’d succeeded in doing so a few times, he gathered the will and energy to speak again.

“Why didn’t you guys ever mention it? How could this not come up in all the time since I’ve been back?” he pleaded, desperately.

“Prompto said that after he’d told you, you said you never wanted to speak of it, and that you didn’t want either of us to mention it because it would only upset you,” Ignis explained, and Noctis shook his head, not wanting to hear it.

“Then he lied about that, too,” he said, solemnly, letting his head fall toward the floor. He closed his eyes again as he felt fresh tears forming. “Stupid bastard lied about everything.”

“I realize this is a lot to take in, especially under such unfortunate circumstances as these,” Ignis sympathized. “When I first found out, I couldn’t help but think of you, Noct. Of how heartbroken you would have been to know what was happening to someone as dear to you as Prompto.”

“It sucks big time, for all of us. But, don’t forget, Noct, as hard as this is on you, it’s probably ten times harder on him. He’s the one who’s had to deal with it all. From trying to live his life to the fullest, to protecting you from the truth, to figuring out how to tell you,” Gladio reminded him. Noctis nodded, chin still trembling. He had to clear his throat to speak past the lump in it.

“Did you… did you check in on him regularly after you found out? Make sure he was okay?” Noctis blubbered out, despising the thought of Prompto finding out the truth of his own mortality, and not having anyone there to help him through it.

“Gladio and I both called and messaged him often, but he always assured us that he was fine, and that he wanted to continue hunting on his own. We were all content going our separate ways at the time, but we did what we could,” Ignis promised.

“Why does he always do this? Why does he think he has to manage everything on his own? First his barcode, now this?” Noct sniffed.   
  
He recognized that Prompto had always been poor at coping with dire circumstances such as these. When Noct had been engaged to Luna, Prompto had overcompensated with humour and enthusiasm, and had fawned over Cindy and Aranea, like they might somehow fill the hole in his heart once Noctis was no longer his. He had kept secrets about his past, had been more recently keeping secrets about the _consequences _of that past. Why couldn’t he just be honest? Why couldn’t he trust Noct when that was all Noct wanted?

Noctis was about to speak again, but movement out of the corner of his eye made him cut his sentence short.

“I’ll talk to you guys, later, okay? Got company.”

“Take care,” Ignis murmured.

“Yeah, hang in there, Noct,” Gladio added, before Noct clicked his phone off. He rapidly wiped his face with the back of his arm, and turned around, ready to hurry back upstairs before whoever was on the level below caught him in this state.

“Your Majesty? Is everything alright?”   
  
Noctis recognized the voice as Lila’s, and he stopped dead, not sure if it would be deemed acceptable to just ignore her like that, especially when she was so generously allowing them to stay in her estate. Resigning himself, he cleared his throat and slowly turned around to face her as she stood at the bottom of the staircase of the empty ballroom. He hoped the redness of his face and eyes had faded enough since his conversation with Prompto to go unnoticed, but judging by Lila’s worried expression, he doubted that was the case. His talk with Gladio and Ignis had only renewed the evidence of tears.

The girl hurried up the steps, her dark gold hair bouncing aginst her back, due to her swift pace. She halted when she was close enough to hold a proper conversation, leaving a couple of stairs between her and her guest.

“What has happened, King Noctis?” she asked, her fearful eyes searching Noct’s for an answer. Noctis lowered his head and closed his eyes, forcing the corners of his lips upward.

“Just a… personal matter,” he said, only opening his eyes again once he felt confident that no more tears would fall. “Thank you so much for your hospitality, Lila, but I’m afraid my glaive and I must return to Lucis in the morning. And as much as I enjoyed getting to know you, I’m afraid any union between us is not in the cards,” Noct said, apologetically, his eyes sincerely reflecting his sympathy. She gave him a small smile of amusement, and laced her hands behind her back, swaying slightly from side to side.

“No offence, Your Majesty, but I wasn’t going to choose you as a mate, either. Finding a suitor was something my aunt was pressuring me to do. I’ll play along with this meet and greet for now, but just know that it wasn’t my choice. Once this whole silly affair is over, I’m going to tell her I’m not interested in pursuing any courtship,” she explained, continuing to smirk. Noctis blinked in surprise at first, but after the words registered, he couldn’t help but smile back.

“I know the feeling,” Noctis agreed.   
  
He and Ignis had had their fair share of head butting over the course of their lives, from arguing over stupid things like homework and too much junk food to addressing larger issues—like royal obligations, and certain expectations of Noctis that would impact the Crown and kingdom. Lately, he couldn’t say he felt Ignis was on his side, especially when it came to his relationship with Prompto. Maybe it was time to take a page out of Lila’s book, and speak up for himself when he knew in his heart that something was right.

Both jumped at the sound of something shattering, and they turned to look at the window at the bottom of the staircase, where Lila had been standing not a minute before. Shards of glass soared through the air as a giant, winged creature plowed through the broken window, tossing its head and giving out a high-pitched, deafening screech. A figure dressed in black from his hood to his boots rode on the creature’s back, gripping its ebony feathers tightly, and holding a whip in his free hand. He snapped it loudly, and the bird landed on the ballroom floor, tossing its head back and letting out another loud squawk before setting its eyes on the two on the stairs.

“Here. Get behind me. Hurry,” Noctis coaxed, reaching a hand out and intending to usher Lila behind his back, but she merely came to stand beside him, her fearful look transforming into a stern and powerful one as she grabbed the metal spear from the suit of armour.

“You can fight, too?” Noctis asked, with creased brows.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me. Let’s make sure everyone gets out safely,” she said, with a glance at Noctis, who gave her a nod in return.   
  
Noctis reached out to the side and summoned his blade as they charged forward toward the winged beast: the great Zu. The man on its back yanked on its feathers, coaxing it to back up and face the incoming warriors properly. On the floor below, they heard the distant cracking of another window, and the screams of what was probably both guards and housekeepers alike. Noctis tried to block out the sounds as he and Lila moved in to surround the giant bird, who shook its head wildly at them, baring its sharp, pointed teeth that looked like giant, thin needles.

Armoured footsteps clanged hurriedly against the ballroom floor as guards arrived on the scene, and helped surround the creature. They began poking at it with their own long spears as Noct warpstriked against its side. With the bird distracted, Lila took the opportunity to sneak around the outer circle of guards, and slip out of the ballroom, hoping to be of more assistance on the lower level.   
  
The Zu flapped its giant wings, sending people flying backwards against walls and onto the floor, including Noctis. The king landed against the staircase, his back hitting hard against one of the steps, and knocking the air out of his lungs as he landed. He could feel the uncomfortable sharp pain in his throat from the impact, and the way the tight muscles in his back protested as he tried to push himself to sit up.

“Noct! I’ve got you, buddy!” came Prompto’s voice from behind, and Noct felt hands slip under his arms, pulling him to his feet. He felt dizzy, his head flopping forward as he tried to get his bearings. As the world came back into focus, he remembered his frustration with the man who had come to his rescue, and he pulled his arms free to stand on his own, earning a concerned glance from Prompto.

“Let’s finish this,” Noct instructed, and Prompto nodded as his friend launched himself back into the fray.   
  
Prompto thrust a hand out and felt the strands of purple and blue magic wrap around his wrist, pulling Noctis’ power into his veins and making his weapon materialize within his grasp. He hurried down the steps after Noctis, shooting at the Zu, and summoning a second firearm when he felt the first one wasn’t doing enough damage on its own. Warping to and fro, Noctis just barely caught sight of Prompto dual-wielding his guns, his footwork graceful as he danced backwards, shooting one bullet after another. Seeing such a strong, confident, breathtaking fighter… it just didn’t make sense to think that he was dying.

As guards clambered back to their feet after being tossed aside a second time by powerful wings, Noctis jumped into the air, and shot his hands out to the side, summoning the Armiger. To his relief, the circle of weapons formed around him, and he launched himself forward at the Zu and its master, letting the weapons fly and jab and slice until he felt the powers waning. Prompto kept his eye on him, expecting him to call out for him at any second, but even as he landed back on the ground, he kept his mouth shut. Was he really going to waste this opportunity for a joint attack?

“Altogether now!” Prompto cheered, as he hurried to Noctis’ side, and attacked the beast simultaneously. The guards joined in, and the bird let out one last piercing screech before its neck and head fell loudly and limply against the marble floor. The man on its back hoisted a leg over and slid down its side, making a dash for the ballroom’s open double-doors.

“Noct, let’s go after him!” Prompto shouted, but Noctis didn’t wait for him. He warpstriked toward the villain, catching him by the back of his hood.

“Show yourself!” Noctis furiously screamed.   
  
The man spun around to launch a fist at Noct, who threw his own hand up to block it, unintentionally leaving himself wide open as the man retrieved a dagger from his belt and shoved it into Noctis’ abdomen. Noctis froze in place, the colour draining from his cheeks immediately as the man pushed the blade in a little deeper before yanking it out. Mercilessly, he pushed Noctis to the floor.

“Noct?! Noooct!” Prompto cried out, throwing his gun across the room and warping after it, landing just beside his friend, and dropping to his knees. He caught sight of the culprit’s sandy brown hair, dark brows, and devious grin before he disappeared down the stairs.

“After him! Go!” Prompto yelled, glancing back at the guards, and pointing a finger at the door.   
  
He quickly reached for Noctis, pulling his slumped form in against him as the armoured guards rushed past them, heart pounding. Noct’s back rested against Prompto’s chest, and Prompto’s hands reached for the damp, bloodstained spot in his black clothing. Even with the support of Prompto’s arms under his own, Noctis could hardly hold himself upright.

“Stay with me, Noct. You’re okay. You’re okay,” Prompto promised, in hushed and hurried tones.   
  
His hands pressed hard against the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Noct made a tiny, pained noise, but remained otherwise still and silent. He was in too much shock to absorb what was happening, and he felt his vision grow darker and darker around the edges until he slipped into total blackness, Prompto’s cries of his name fading into the distance.


	13. Freedom

_ Mad… I’m really mad at you. _

Noctis fought to open his eyes, but his lids were far too heavy to try for long. He decided to stay in the darkness, listening tiredly to the world around him, zoning in and out of consciousness, most of the time staying right in the middle of the two states. He could feel a hand grasping his own, the familiar calloused thumb of a gunman brushing over the backs of his knuckles.

“But he’s going to be okay?” came Prompto’s voice. Noctis couldn’t remember hearing anyone answer the question.

The next time he came close to surfacing from his deep slumber, he was able to force his eyes open with minimal struggling. The ceiling above him was white, a rhythmic beep sounding every second or so. He glanced to his left, finding the culprit of the noise: a heart monitor, which attempted to mesmerize him as it produced its constant green line, peaking up like a mountain with every beat of his pulse.   
  
His eyes travelled down to his left hand where some gauze and tape held an IV in place, and finally he turned to his right. To his surprise, in the chair next to him wasn’t Prompto, but rather Talcott. He was dressed in his hunter’s vest and scarf, his Hammerhead ball cap currently hiding his eyes from view. He was sitting forward in his seat, his elbows resting on his knees, and his hands folded in front of him. He looked up as he caught sight of movement, and gave Noctis a relieved smile, his brows still twisted in worry.

“Your Majesty! Thank goodness you’re alright,” he greeted, reaching a hand out to rest on Noct’s forearm. Noctis pushed back a small, groggy smile.

“Hey, Talcott,” he croaked, feeling truly happy to see such a kind and familiar face. “Wait, w-where’s Prompto? Wasn’t he here?”

“He was. He called me in a panic, Your Majesty, and asked me to come here since I was closer to Accordo than Sir Ignis or Sir Gladio. It seems Sir Prompto received a call from one of your glaives, who was in trouble as well,” Talcott explained. “Don’t think he abandoned you, Your Majesty. He refused to leave your side until he knew you were out of the woods, and under my care,” he added with a smile.  
  
Noctis quickly became lost in thought. There were so many questions running through his mind in that moment. Where was he? How did he get here? How long had he been unconscious? Where had Prompto gone? But first things first, why was he in so much pain?

“What happened?” Noctis asked, hoarsely, lifting his right hand up to rest upon his sore stomach. Even the slightest contact was painful, and he tried to recall his last moments of consciousness before he had ended up here.

“Prompto told me everything, Your Majesty. You were attacked while you were staying in Accordo. After defeating that Zu, a man stabbed you. Lady Lila and her guards believe someone may have tipped off the resistance, and told them that you were staying at her estate after the ball. It’s much less secure than the Citadel, and was therefore an easier location to try and get to you,” Talcott informed him.

“They believe it was the resistance that attacked?” Noctis’ frown deepened slightly, features twinging with pain.

“Yes. And according to Miss Iris’ most recent research, they are calling themselves ‘The Relicta’, which—loosely translated—means ‘the abandoned’.”

“Because they feel my father abandoned them?” Noctis asked, solemnly, his gaze retreating from Talcott’s in shame. Talcott tenderly patted Noctis’ arm.

“I believe King Regis knew what he was doing when he protected you above all else, Your Majesty. If it weren’t for you, I doubt any of us would still be here,” the boy said, giving him a small smile that was sad, but sincere.

“I wish everyone felt the way you do, Talcott. And call me ‘Noct’, okay? After everything we’ve been through, you should be allowed to call me Noct.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Uh, _Noct_. Yes, Noct,” Talcott corrected himself, and Noctis smiled.

“‘Atta boy.”  
  
Noctis reached behind him, and carefully tried to sit himself up. Talcott was on his feet in a second, propping up the pillow behind him, and helping him get situated without causing him too much pain. Once he was comfortable in a more upright position, Talcott took a seat again, and Noctis turned his attention back to him.

“Does the council know what happened?”

“Yes. Sir Ignis and Sir Gladio are on their way here now to escort you home.”

“And where is here, exactly?”

“The hospital in Accalia. Sir Prompto brought you here when he worried your wounds were too great for him to heal properly.”  
  
At this mention of Prompto, Noctis’ stomach churned. His grogginess had finally faded enough for him to truly focus on all that had happened between them—the proposal, the truth about Prompto, the conversation with Ignis and Gladio about him, and the battle that probably would have ended differently if Noct hadn’t taken on the assailant alone. If only he’d let go of his anger and let Prompto in on his plan to pursue him, he probably wouldn’t have a hole in his abdomen, and a pound of bandages wrapped around his middle.

“Where is he now?”

“The Leide region. He said not to worry, and that he will meet you back in Insomnia,” Talcott assured him. Noctis quirked a brow.

“I worry,” he stated, partly to humour Talcott, who gave a light chuckle. “But seriously, is there a phone here I can use? I… really should talk to him.”

“Of course, your Majes— I-I mean, Noct,” Talcott stammered, getting up from his seat. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and entered his passcode to unlock it before handing it to his king.

“Thank you.” Noctis took it and dialed Prompto’s cellphone number, bringing the device to his ear. He swallowed unintentionally hard as he waited, each unanswered ring increasing his worry little by little.

“Hello?”

“Prompto?” Noctis choked out, feeling almost emotional now that he’d heard his voice. Talcott looked relieved when Prompto picked up, and he gave a small smile before getting up from his seat and exiting the room, closing the door quietly behind him to give Noctis some privacy.

“Hey, buddy. You doin’ okay?”

“I’m fine. Are _you _okay? Where are you?”

“I’m on the way back to Insomnia now. Everything’s fine, don’t worry. I’ll explain everything when you get back. Just focus on getting some rest, alright?” Prompto said, and Noctis could practically hear his soft smile through the phone. He lowered his head, and pressed the phone tighter to his ear, hoping to make the tinny and distant reception just a little clearer, wanting to make Prompto feel not so far away.

“Noct? You there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Noct said, clearing his throat to prevent tears that were determined to come his way. It hurt knowing that they were so far apart at a time when they absolutely needed to get things off their chests.

“You still mad at me?” Prompto asked.

“What?” Noctis gaped.

“You mumbled that you were mad at me, while you were drifting in and out of sleep at the hospital.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. But I figured as much when you tried to take on that guy alone. And I don’t blame you. When we get home, you can yell at me all you want, but I don’t want to do this over the phone,” Prompto said, and Noctis closed his eyes.

After the conversation with Ignis and Gladio, he had been furious. He’d hated knowing that Prompto had lied to his friends, that he’d kept the secret about his mortality from him for a whole year. But now, now that they were miles apart with everything between them on hold, Noctis wanted nothing more than to pull him close and tell him that everything would be okay.

Maybe he didn’t like that Prompto had kept him in the dark, but he understood why he did. All the things Prompto had told him in the bedroom of the estate, they all made sense, and they all made Noctis feel he might have done the same thing if their positions had been reversed. After all, he could never truly know what it was like to live in the aftermath of being Ardyn’s hostage, or the result of a twisted experiment.

Sure, maybe he’d always be a little angry when he thought back on it. Maybe he would always feel a bit hurt that Prompto had chosen not to tell him in the first place. But right now, neither anger nor hurt was the dominating emotion when he thought about Prompto; it was despair. The point of the matter was that Prompto’s time was running out with every minute that passed, and he didn’t want to waste any more time at a distance. He wanted to mend things, wanted them to be two idiots in love again, for them to be nothing but happy.

“Prompto, I’m s—“

“Oh, sorry, Noct. I gotta run. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Wait, Prompto—“

The phone beeped in Noctis’ ear as Prompto ended the call, and Noct languidly lowered the device, letting his hand fall limply onto the pillow. He wanted to let himself cry, but Talcott re-entered the room, ending his chance to do so. Perhaps it was for the best. Breaking down would probably only make him feel worse.

“Everything okay?” Talcott asked, eyeing the king’s disgruntled visage, all scrunched up with worry. Noctis blinked back the remaining tears in his eyes, and looked up at the boy with a tender smile.

“Yeah, fine. Just in a lot of pain,” Noct said, and he wasn’t lying. “Can you help me back down?”

“Of course.” Talcott moved in to help, and with gentle movements, he manoeuvred Noctis comfortably onto his back again.

“I’m going to get a nurse to come check on you, okay? You’re going to be good as new in no time, I promise,” Talcott smiled, before heading out of the room.  
  
Noctis tilted his head toward the ceiling, vision blurring once more as he thought of Prompto. _That makes one of us._

* * *

It took three days for the trio to arrive back in Insomnia. Several stops had to be made for Noctis to get out and stretch his tender body, and allow his injuries time to recover from the cramped space of the car. The drive, despite it being long, was rather silent. Whenever Ignis or Gladio would ask Noctis anything pertaining to Prompto, the kingdom, or anything remotely serious, he would shut down, refusing to say anything, staring blankly out the window.

There was only one real break in the silence, when Gladio became fed up with the silent brooding from the backseat, and he glanced back at Noctis in the rearview mirror as he drove.  
  
“Listen, Noct. You can blame me and Iggy for not realizin’ Prompto lied. You can stay mad and ignore us all you want. Doesn’t matter a bit,” he shrugged, though his brows were still pushed into a frown. “But If there’s one person you should talk to about how you’re feeling, it’s Prompto. Losing someone you love—the love of your life, no less—is something he’s gone through himself. I’m sure he’s pretty familiar with those feelings of loss and helplessness that you’re experiencing right now.”

The speech hit Noctis like another dagger, this one digging into his heart instead, just inches above his still throbbing wound. He knew he had to speak with Prompto, but Gladio’s words... they only drove that point home. In some regards, Prompto _did _know what he was going through, all too well.  
  
After a good night’s rest in his own bed, Noctis made his way to the basement elevator. He was feeling more than a little desperate to see Prompto in one piece, but he still wasn’t sure what he was going to say once he saw him. How was he supposed to comfort him? How could they pick up where they’d left off, now that Noctis knew the truth? What should he say to someone facing death?  
  
Even when Noctis thought back on his own time, when he had learned of the prophecy that would end his life, he wasn’t sure what his friends could have said to make things better. Even Prompto probably couldn’t have assuaged Noct’s fears and hangups completely. So, what could _Noct_ do for _him_?

Noctis soon found himself in the basement of the Citadel, and he wandered over to the metal vault, the mere sight of it making him feel colder than he already did. At the moment, this was the problem with the most immediate solution—_if _he could figure it out.  
  
If he could solve his financial crisis, he would be able to go to Prompto and assure him that everything would be okay, that they had the funds for whatever care Prompto might need. He could tell Prompto that he had less worries on his shoulders, and therefore more time to devote to improving his quality of life. He could begin fixing things for all the regions of Eos, potentially reducing the risk of danger to both of them. He could dote on Prompto, allowing him to have anything and everything he needed for a perfectly happy life. All he had to do was crack the code.

Noctis spun the dial around three times, then back around twice, then forward again. 06-04-01: the day Clarus Amicitia was born. Perhaps the late King Regis would have used his Shield’s birthday for a code such as this. Noct was ninety-percent sure they had already tried it, but the other ten percent left him determined to try the combination anyway.  
  
Noctis pushed against the crank, and when it didn’t budge, he pushed harder, only to feel the searing pain of his wound. He pulled back with a pained gasp. Distraught and helpless, he slammed a fist against the metal.

“Open up! Open, dammit!” he cried out, pounding against it a couple more times before he let out a defeated sob and slumped to the floor, back resting against the door. He tilted his head back to stare at the dingy ceiling, each long, crooked crack reminding him of all the things in his life he’d broken or ruined along the way—his rapport with his father, his promises to protect those dear to him, his honest and trusting relationship with Prompto.

“Dad...” he whimpered, the metal against his back feeling cold even through the layers of his dress shirt and jacket. “I need your help. Am I just screwing everything up?”

His voice was so weak, it barely even echoed in the empty space. He wanted to hear his father’s soothing voice, for him to tell him that everything was fine, and that it was alright to let himself break every now and then. He tried to picture him, the shape of his mouth, surrounded by his peppered beard, the movement of his lips as he spoke. He tried to imagine what advice he might give to him now, wanting so badly to believe he would have told him to stay by Prompto’s side, and help him through whatever was to come. He let out a heavy sigh, and found himself wanting to get lost in better days—days that he hadn’t realized at the time were so good.

_***_

“_You saw Prompto off?” Regis asked, from his seat at the head of the dining table, slicing off a section of his fruit-filled crepe, and popping it into his mouth as his son took a place in his chair across the room._

“_Yeah. Sorry I’m late. Just wanted to say goodbye,” Noctis nodded, glancing up at his father, before picking up his fork. Regis watched as he poked around at the crepe, separating the fruit from the pastry and cream, and taking a bite from the less healthy of the two piles._

“_Is one of the glaives driving him home?” Regis asked._

“_Yeah. Nyx, I think his name was?” Noctis shrugged.  
  
Regis nodded, smiling. He tilted his head slightly, trying to spot any subtle cues in his son’s expression—__cues__ that might help him identify __Noct’s__ feelings __for__ the young man who had just spent part of his summer break here at the Citadel. Regis knew as well—or better—than anyone how tough it was getting Noctis to be open with his emotions, and he knew a matter as sensitive as this would be particularly difficult to get to the root._

“_Ignis said there were no problems during his stay. He informed me that you were both well-behaved, and played video games in your room the majority of the time?”_

“_Tch, yeah, it’s not like we were gonna run wild around the palace. We’re not kids,” Noct rolled his eyes. Regis hummed in amusement, though that wasn’t the kind of trouble he had worried the boys might get into._

“_You’re right.”_

_Noctis quirked a brow, as if to say ‘you bet I am’, before reaching for his goblet and gulping down a large swig of water. Regis continued to watch him with so much love in his heart, and Noctis could feel those eyes on him. He wondered what kind of sentimental talk his father was about to bombard him with, and hoped that if he avoided eye contact, he might avoid the talk altogether._

“_Noctis? You know that you can speak with me about anything, right? If something is bothering you, or if you’re unsure about something?” Regis asked, and Noctis frowned at him_ _warily, __even suspiciously__. Noctis felt a lump in his throat, and a __violent twist__ in his stomach. Was his father onto him? Was he __keen enough__ to pick up on his little crush that he swore in time would just go away?_

_ He stared up at his father, not intending to let his gaze linger, but when they locked eyes, he couldn’t help it. Regis looked so gentle, his eyes curious with the slightest bit of worry, and Noctis knew in that moment that this was his father—not the king. If he wanted to, he could tell him the truth. He could even wait and tell him later in private, if he feared the dining hall wasn’t the place for this conversation. But he was scared. Why burden his father with something like this, when he was sure it would only cause trouble?_

_ If the prince were to date a common boy, he knew his father would be the one to have to deal with the press, the media, the public, and he would have to salvage what was left of the Crown’s good reputation. He couldn’t do that to his father—couldn’t embarrass him, cause him shame or trouble, especially when he doubted anything would ever even come of his feelings. Prompto reciprocating how he felt was probably a long shot anyway._

“_I don’t know what you’re talking about, but yeah. Sure,” Noctis said, nonchalantly, cutting a little more fiercely into his crepe this time, and leaving the king to silently wonder if he’d been on the mark, or far from it._

_***_

_ The truth didn’t come out until two months after he and Prompto had officially started dating. Ignis had confronted him after finding the two of them asleep on Noctis’ couch one afternoon, the young prince draped over his best friend’s body, head resting on his chest, and Prompto’s arms laced around him. Noctis had denied the accusations at first, but Ignis had had more evidence on his side: catching them holding hands in the backseat of the car one night, accidentally seeing the hearts that had popped up on Noctis’ phone in a text from Prompto. And after having nothing more to retort with, Noctis had simply pleaded for Ignis not to tell his father until he did so himself._

_ And so, he had driven to the Citadel alone in the pouring rain that night, and was in tears by the time he made it to the king’s chambers. Regis was already settled in bed, and looked up from the book he was reading as his son stumbled in, drenched from the weather outside, face soaked in both raindrops and tears._

“_I lied, Dad,” he whimpered, hurrying over to the king’s bedside, and taking a seat on the edge of the mattress, only to __fall __weakly against his father’s chest. Regis immediately enveloped him in an embrace that he needed more than ever, startled not only by his son’s presence here, but __also__ his state of distress.  
  
“What’s bothering me, it’s… it’s Prompto. I think I’m…”_

_Even now, he couldn’t get the words out, but Regis softly shushed him, pulling him in close and trailing a hand over the back of his hair, his other hand resting on his back and rubbing gently between his shoulder blades._

“_It’s alright, Noctis. It’s alright, son,” Regis murmured. “He’s special to you, isn’t he?”   
  
The words made Noctis cry harder, __but not __because he was ashamed. It was simply because his father had known, and Noctis had been carrying this heavy secret around needlessly. He should have trusted his dad, should have let him in from the start._

“_I’ve been seeing him behind your back. For two months!” Noctis wept, pulling back to look his father in the eye. His own bloodshot eyes were scrunched up in apology and pain, his cheeks stained with numerous trails of tears that had found their way from his lashes to his chin._

“_Noctis, listen to me,” he cooed, his hands travelling to Noctis’ shoulders and gripping gently. “Do I sound angry?”  
  
Noctis paused, his brows twitching between a confused frown and a tearful expression. He analyzed his father’s kind face—__h__is small, gentle smile; his sparkling, caring eyes._

“_No,” Noctis said, quietly, though it almost sounded like a question._

“_Do I _look _angry?”_

“_No.”_

“_Because I’m not. I’m proud of you. For being so very brave,” Regis promised him, and as he brushed tears away from his son’s eyes, the boy fell in against him again, letting out a tearful sob of relief, and returning the hug that the king had so generously given him upon entry. They sat there for a long time in each other’s embrace, just waiting until Noctis’ gentle weeping subsided._

_***_

Noctis blinked, swearing to himself he wouldn’t cry now, despite how terribly he missed his father. It was strange to think of how the two most important people in his life had barely even gotten to know each other, and yet had held so much respect for one another. King Regis had been so kind towards Prompto the night of their prom, and had given Noctis permission to take his best friend along on the roadtrip to Altissia without hesitation. And then there was Prompto, who had voiced how much he admired Noctis’ relationship with his father, and who had grieved the king’s passing along with Noctis. Prompto had helped him through his father’s death. Noctis shuddered to think who would help him through Prompto’s.

He forced himself to be courageous enough to imagine what he would do if he were in Prompto’s shoes. His stomach turned at the sickening feeling of fear from not knowing when the end was coming, or how ill he would be when his time was near. He imagined how lonely he would be to know that he was the only one in Eos to have to deal with a situation exactly like this one; as far as they knew, Prompto was the only one to escape from Verstael’s experiments and still maintain his humanity.

During their final time around the campfire before the battle with Ardyn, Noctis had been sure that that night would be his final farewell, that he would have to leave Prompto behind, and that Prompto would have to continue on without him. He had put on a brave face, and he had been proud knowing that by sacrificing his own life, he would save billions. It was an honour to save Eos, to give his companions a world that was once again filled with sunlight, but saying goodbye to his friends was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. He hadn’t known how to give Prompto a proper goodbye, so he had avoided it altogether, never letting Ignis or Gladio out of his sight so they would never be forced into a painful moment alone.

When focused on the similarities of their situation, he understood why Prompto had such a hard time telling him of his condition. Noct had struggled with his own goodbye so much that he had skipped it altogether. Prompto had been right. There was no good time to break someone’s heart.

For Prompto, goodbye would be different—_sadder_. He wasn’t dying for the greater good; he was simply dying from the same cruel experiment that had caused him to feel alienated since he was barely old enough to walk. He would die because some assholes in a laboratory hadn’t cared enough to give him a proper chance at life.

Noctis closed his eyes and leaned his head against his knees, ignoring the pain in his stomach, for it was nothing compared to the ache in his heart. Before the truth had come out, Noctis had felt like ten years was a long time. It was long enough for him to feel like he’d spent an eternity in the crystal. It was long enough that he’d feared the feelings Prompto had once had for him might have since withered and died. But now it felt so short. So very short.

How could someone cram the next forty or fifty odd years of life into a mere ten? Could Noctis help Prompto accomplish everything he wanted to? Could he help him squeeze every ounce of happiness out of life? By the Astrals, he wanted to. He would give anything to make Prompto feel like his every desire had been fulfilled. He needed to speak with Prompto. At least now, with all this gained insight, he had a little better idea of what he might say.

With a hand on the wall for support, he carefully guided himself back to his feet, trying not to cause any further pain to his injured stomach. He turned back toward the metal door once he was upright again, and his eyes scanned the circle of numbers on the gigantic lock one last time. His parents’ wedding date, the day his mother had died, the coordinates of the Citadel and royal tombs… Everything he could think of as a possible combination had been tried. Except one. What if…? It was unlikely, wasn’t it?

Bravely, Noctis reached out for the metal crank, and turned it to the desired numbers. 10-25-35: Prompto’s birthday. He waited patiently, stomach swirling as he listened and hoped for the click of the lock, but nothing happened. Noctis pushed on the crank, and tried once again to move the door, but it wouldn’t budge.  
  
With a heavy heart, he took a step back and gazed upon the giant obstacle in his path. Relieving his worries about his father’s approval of him and Prompto, and gaining access to the funds he needed to continue improving the world around him—having them be bundled into one simple solution would have been too good to be true.

* * *

Once Noctis had returned from the basement, he took the main elevator to the eleventh floor. He proceeded down the hall as quickly as his wounds would permit, and when he reached Prompto’s door, he gave a gentle knock.

“Hey, it’s me,” he murmured. Prompto opened up a second later, expression softening. He gave Noct a bittersweet smile, as if trying to predict the mood of their upcoming conversation.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” Prompto asked, eyes flickering down to Noct’s hand, which had come to rest on his abdomen out of habit the last few days.

“Still pretty sore, but I’ll live. Thanks for being there,” Noct said, pushing forth a small smile of his own. Prompto backed up, holding the door open for him to enter. When Noct seemed to be struggling, Prompto placed an arm around his back, and helped him over to the nearest armchair.

“It was no problem. I’m just glad you’re okay,” Prompto assured him, as Noct adjusted himself in the chair.  
  
Prompto took a seat on the edge of the bed, facing him, not sure how close he should get since Noct could be yelling at him any minute now. He’d given him permission to do so, after all, but the man looked anything but hostile. He was pale, perhaps from the pain, and he looked tired from the events of the previous days.

“So, you heard about the Relicta? Or whatever they call themselves?” Noctis spoke up, before Prompto could get a chance.

“Yeah. I heard,” he nodded solemnly. “And now that you’re back, I guess I should tell you…”

“Where you were? And what happened with the glaives?” Noctis finished for him. Prompto gave a soft chuckle.

“You didn’t forget about that, huh? Well, after I rushed you to the hospital, I got a call from one of your glaives. He said they were attacked at their campsite after a hunt by these people in black clothing, and Fae was battered up pretty badly. I don’t know if you know, but that girl is stubborn. She refused to let anyone tend to her until I got there,” Prompto explained.

“What? Is she okay?” Noct asked, leaning forward in his seat in worry, momentarily forgetting about the pain until the movement caused him to sit back with a jolt. He rubbed his stomach ruefully. Prompto sat up straight, eyes widening with worry and hands at the ready to help until Noct seemed to relax again.

“She’s fine. Broken arm, though. And some cuts and bruises. But the glaives are all reporting the same thing. Black clothing with the bloodied skull of Lucis painted onto some part of their uniforms. Just like that guy in Accalia.”

“Really? I didn’t notice,” Noctis said, watching as Prompto twisted his lips in what looked like an uncomfortable manner. “Right. Guess it’s because I charged in like a maniac,” Noctis admitted, rolling his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is we know what to look out for, and we know the resistance is on the move. They’ve got a name now, and a way to recognize them. I know it sounds bad, but it’s actually kind of helpful in a way,” Prompto shrugged. “As long as we keep you safe, of course.”

“_Me_?” Noctis frowned, his face pushing itself into what was almost a pout. “I’m more worried about everyone else. They’re not just targeting me, but also my glaives? That means everyone is putting their lives on the line for me, and if you stay with me…” Noct trailed off, pointing his eyes up toward Prompto and locking their gazes. “You’d most likely become a main target. Remember what Libertus said? People in Galahd already had their doubts about you because you were rumoured to be important to me.”

He didn’t expect Prompto to show any fear at that statement. He figured he would argue that he didn’t care, that he would find a way to win the people over, and that they would stick together no matter what. Instead, he lowered his head, looking nervous and solemn.

“You still want me? After what I did?” he asked, softly. Shock took over Noctis’ features, and he scooted forward in his seat again, ignoring the pain even as it burned him like a branding iron. He stifled a noise of discomfort, and waved a hand toward Prompto, coaxing him closer. Prompto obeyed, and knelt in front of Noctis, who took his hands in his own, resting them on his knees.

“Look, I know that you lied to Ignis and Gladio. You told them you’d already explained everything to me, and that they shouldn’t mention it because I would just be upset. And yeah, I’m pissed that you did that. And it hurts that you didn’t tell me from the start what was going on, but Prompto…” Noctis murmured, voice weakening as he spoke his partner’s name. “I will never forget all those things you said up in the room that night. All those things about not wanting to break my heart, and about being trapped with Ardyn…”  
  
Noctis trailed off when Prompto had lowered his head too much to continue meeting his eyes. Bravely, Noctis slipped a hand out of Prompto’s, and reached for his chin, gently tilting it up toward him, and assuring him with loving eyes that he had no reason to fear him.

“It made me understand why you did what you did. And I _forgive_ you,” Noctis promised him, and Prompto’s eyes widened in shock, allowing Noctis to dive into all those intricate designs within them—admiring them, memorizing them.

“Noct…”

“Gladio said that if anyone was to understand what I’m feeling right now, it’s you. Because... you _did _go through the same thing. _You _lost _me_. You know how hard it is to lose someone so close to you,” Noctis said, a slight tremor in his voice.

“Yeah,” Prompto breathed. “I definitely know the feeling. Another reason why I didn’t want to put you through this.”

“I get it. I do,” Noctis promised him. “But, just know that no matter how much this hurts, nothing you do is going to make me stop loving you. So, let’s just move on from that night, and start making things better. Because I don’t want to waste another second without you,” Noct smiled, softly.  
  
Prompto’s expression weakened, like he might be reduced to tears by Noctis’ genuine acceptance of him and his mistakes. Instead, he raised both hands to cup around Noctis’ face, and he leaned in to kiss him. Lips met slowly, softly, as if going too hard or too fast might cause Noctis further pain.

“I love you,” Prompto whispered, against his lips. “And thank you. For being so okay with everything.”

“I just want to make things right. Whatever you want, Prom. I want you to have whatever you want, okay? So, just tell me how to help you,” Noctis whispered back, his eyes drifting open as Prompto pulled away slightly. Prompto’s thumbs brushed against the sides of his face, and he smiled softly back at his companion.

“Right now, I’m like you. I just want to make things right. So, let’s not be sad about this, okay? I’m alright for now.” Noctis rested his hand atop Prompto’s before sliding it down to his lips, and kissing Prompto’s palm ever so tenderly.

“I can’t promise you I won’t be sad,” Noctis said, pressing another kiss to the smooth skin before lowering their hands. “This is _you _we’re talking about. Your _life_.”

“I know, but I don’t want you to start treating me differently now that I told you. I just want things to feel normal again, so… Can we do that?”

“I _did say_ I’d do whatever you wanted, didn’t I?” Noct asked, with a sigh.  
  
He didn’t mention it, but at the moment, he couldn’t imagine how things could _ever _feel normal again, not now that he knew the truth. Prompto smiled, happily ignorant of the thought in Noct’s mind, and moved back to sit on the edge of the bed again, hands resting on his knees.

“I think before we can go back to normal, though, I need to clear the air about something. That proposal I made in Accalia...” Noct started, and watched the way Prompto seemed to gulp, the relaxed look in his eyes disappearing completely, much to Noct’s chagrin.

“I’m sorry if it took you off guard. Maybe we should have discussed it beforehand instead of me blindsiding you with it,” Noctis said, solemnly, a look of deep apology twinkling in his eyes. He knew in his heart that if they had both been on the same page about it, the truth probably would have come out sooner. Since the time Noctis had returned, their whole rapport had been a communication breakdown.

“I was definitely stunned by it,” Prompto nodded, lowering his gaze to stare at the red bed-covers beside him. He ran a hand over the end of the blanket, finding a tiny flaw in the stitching and picking at it with his fingers as a distraction.

“We never really talked about it growing up,” Noctis agreed.

“I think it was because we were both afraid to know how that would end. We never thought it would be allowed,” Prompto shrugged, remembering that time in his life when he used to shut off his thoughts of a future with Noctis before he fell too deeply in love with them. He knew that, like most other things in his life, Noctis just wouldn’t fit into place the way he wished he would.

“Yeah,” Noct agreed, solemnly. “But, just so we’re clear, I didn’t propose to make some political statement, or to prove to you that you’re worthy. I did it because I do believe in a future where we’re together. And because I love you, beyond all else.”

Prompto looked up at him with eyes that were almost timid, but after a second or two of staring into them, Noctis realized that assessment was wrong; Prompto was scared, ashamed.

“But… with me, there won’t _be _much of a future,” he reminded him, though the statement made him sick to his stomach. Every reason why he shouldn’t be with Noctis seemed to line up in his mind, waiting for Noctis to shoot them down and assure him that they were better together, but Prompto feared they would somehow dodge every one of his well-aimed shots.

“Nothing’s changed, Prompto. I told you before, my father ruled alone. Either I rule with you by my side, or I rule alone, too. I don’t care if this isn’t forever,” Noct shook his head, voice calm, but eyes desperate, full of raw emotion. Prompto closed his eyes, in disbelief that he was here in the same position again—having to deliver bad news and break Noctis’ heart.

“Noct, I wasn’t lying when I said this isn’t a good fit. I’m still a Niff. I’m still going to die. I’m still not going to be able to give you an heir, or be someone the citizens approve of, or—”

“Prompto—” Noct started, getting to his feet. He flinched, and instinctively put a hand to his abdomen, breathing through the pain as he made his way to the bed, and took a seat beside his friend, ending Prompto’s fascination with the comforter’s flawed stitching. “Where is all of this coming from? I thought we were past this.”

Prompto hesitated, his eyes on the carpet, never looking at Noctis out of fear, shame, and every bad feeling he’d ever had about himself. They were all attacking him now, making him feel as inferior as that little kid that Noctis had had to pick up off the ground in the school courtyard.

“Ignis said a lot of things to me, and he had a point, Noct. He was right about everything,”

“Ignis said something to you?” Noct scowled. “I _knew_ something was up!”

“No, no, Noct, don’t get mad at ignis! He was right. These are all things I’d thought of before, you know? Like, how I’m not royalty, and how marrying someone from Niflheim might not be the best idea, and how if word of my origins ever got out, there could be trouble. Plus, there are going to be lots of people who want to see a king and a queen ruling Lucis, and you should carry on the line, and—“

“But none of that matters! Maybe all of these changes are exactly what Lucis needs! People weren’t exactly happy with the way my dad ended his rule, and I need to do everything I can to earn people’s trust. You and I, we can show them how strong our bonds can be when we ban together. We can show everyone that no matter where someone comes from, no matter what they feel in their heart, _different _doesn’t mean _evil_,” Noctis argued, his voice and eyes so sad, pleading with Prompto to agree with him.  
  
And Prompto wanted to. He desperately wanted to, but once again, he would be giving into selfishness, wouldn’t he? Could he really allow this wonderful new king to put his reputation on the line for someone like him, someone who wouldn’t even be here long enough to clean up the mess if it all went to hell?

“I can’t, Noct. I can’t let you risk everything,” Prompto shook his head.

“Then why did you come back to me six months ago? Why did you stay by my side for so long?” Noct demanded.

“Because I knew it could only ever be temporary! And I thought that if we kept it on the down-low, then it wouldn’t matter to anyone. But then Ignis and Gladio found out, and I started to panic, and then you proposed, and I panicked even more because we were getting in so deep, and I still hadn’t told you the truth about me, and...”  
  
“And?” Noct prodded, eyes wary.

“Honestly, Noct? Whenever I think of us together, standing in front of huge crowds and declaring our love to the world, or I think of how you could have someone as beautiful and elegant as Lila, I’m taken right back to that little boy who never thought he could be good enough for you,” Prompto admitted, voice breaking as he finished.  
  
Noctis watched him for what felt like forever, while Prompto continued to stare straight ahead, eyes on the floor, feeling Noct’s gaze taking him in sidelong. He wished Noctis would say something—anything to break the silence—but it seemed he had left him speechless with that last statement. After a minute, Noctis reached for his hand, which was still resting on his knee. Carefully, he grasped it, holding it safely within his own, afraid that gripping too tightly might make Prompto break under the pressure.

“You know you’re good enough for me. You have always been good enough.” Gently, he pushed the cuff of Prompto’s coat up to reveal bars of black ink. Delicately, he brushed a thumb over that skin, skin that had for so long been hidden beneath sweatbands and bracelets and cloth. Noctis let his eyes drift closed as he lowered his head, pressing a kiss to the barcode, and swearing he heard Prompto whimper at the contact.  
  
“And that little boy… you know he’s loved, right? Tell him for me that he’s loved,” Noctis murmured, wondering if he would ever cure that crippling feeling of inferiority that Prompto had struggled with his entire life. To his relief, the words had reached that sensitive part of Prompto, who blinked in tearful surprise.

It was weird for Prompto to think about that chubby little kid he had been in elementary school, and know that he was loved. At the time, he hadn’t felt it, so he had done everything he could to better himself, and make himself into something worthy of another person’s love. But here was Noctis, who had never thought ill of him—even when he hadn’t known it, and even when he was not too fond of himself. Noctis, whose love transcended space and time. That little kid was forever a part of Prompto, and as someone who loved and accepted all those parts, even the Noctis before him now still held that little boy in his heart.

Prompto released a breath and caught Noctis’ eye as the man stood up. Careful not to cause him any further pain, Prompto followed him to his feet and leaned in against his partner, head nestling into the crook of Noctis’ neck. Noctis sighed peacefully, letting his eyes fall closed as he felt Prompto settle in against him.

“When did you start being so open with your feelings?” Prompto asked, softly, eyes blinking lazily. He contentedly let himself settle into the warmth of Noct’s arms as they wrapped around him.

“When I came back from the crystal and realized the world had moved on without me. When I realized there were a lot of things I wished I’d said to a lot of people,” he started, and Prompto turned his head slightly to let him know he was listening.

“And again now, when I realized I was in danger of losing you,” Noctis said, his low, velvety tone soothing Prompto like it always had.

“Listen, Prom, we don’t have to get married if you don’t want to. I don’t want to put any kind of pressure on you, but I just want you to know that if we did, I think we really could make a difference in this world,” Noct murmured, and Prompto raised his head slightly against Noct’s neck, silently encouraging him to continue.

“I’ve honestly been thinking about it for a while. I’ve felt so lost since I came back. I really don’t know how to guide and rule this world when I haven’t lived in it through those ten dark years. But_ you __could _guide me. You lived through that time, fought at the heart of it. The way I’ve heard it, both hunters and glaives have a lot of respect for you. I think the citizens of Eos would realize what an inspiration you are, too,” Noctis explained. Prompto chuckled lightly, maybe even tearfully.

“Me? An inspiration? I don’t know, dude. I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

“I don’t know. You were quite the badass defending me in Galahd and Altissia,” Noct smirked, amusement sparkling in his eyes when Prompto pulled back to look at him. Finally, he managed a small smile. Noctis’ hand travelled up the back of Prompto’s neck, squeezing gently.

“But seriously, this isn’t something you need to decide today. Just think about it, okay? For me?”

“Yeah,” Prompto breathed. “For you.”

The embrace was interrupted as Noctis’ phone rang, and he reached a hand into his pocket, while keeping the other around Prompto’s back, encouraging him to stay where he was—close and comfortable. Prompto nodded against his neck in appreciation as Noctis took the call.  
  
“Hello?”

“Good morning, Your Majesty. The council would like to meet with you about a few things if you’re feeling up to it. If you’re not, it can wait until tomorrow,” Cor said, on the other end of the line.  
  
“Nah, it’s fine. I’d like to hear about this glaive business anyway,” Noct said.  
  
“Alright then. I will alert everyone.”

“Gotcha.” Noct onehandedly ended the call and stuffed the device back in his pocket, hand returning to Prompto’s back to rub circles there.  
  
“Everything okay?” Prompto asked, quirking a brow.

“Council meeting.”

“Oh. O-okay.”

“Hey,” Noctis cooed, leaning his head in to catch Prompto’s eyes, which had previously wandered off to the side. He pressed their foreheads together gently, lips curved into a tender smile. “We’ll have lots more time to talk about all of this, alright? Don’t worry.”

“Yeah. Maybe it’s for the best anyway. This conversation... it was pretty heavy,” Prompto acknowledged.

“But if you have anything you need to get out in the open, anything at all, just speak up, okay? You don’t have to hide anymore,” Noctis convinced him, and Prompto nodded, feeling his own smile return as that weight was lifted. He leaned back into Noctis’ embrace a moment longer, nose pressing into the collar of his suit and breathing in his sweet scent.  
  
He didn’t have to hide anymore. He didn’t know if he’d ever felt so free.


	14. Changing Paces

Noctis and Prompto proceeded to the meeting room together, where they found the council already gathered and waiting for them. Noctis sat down at the head of the table, while Prompto took the seat adjacent to him. Noctis scanned the room, admiring the warm smiles and concerned glances that were directed at him.

“Thank you all for coming. I can understand why many of you may be feeling unsettled, but there’s no need to worry. My injuries are healing, and I’m going to be fine,” Noctis said, giving them some reassurance. He waved a hand, giving the group permission to sit down.

“And we appreciate your attendance, despite you feeling under the weather, Your Majesty,” Cor announced, with a small bow of his head. Noctis nodded to him in kind.

“Now, if you all don’t mind, I would like to begin by discussing the attack on the glaives. We can discuss the events in Accalia afterwards. Gladio, I’m guessing you know something about what happened?” Noctis asked.

“Yes, of course. I guess it was four or five nights ago now? I got a frantic call from one of the glaives on a hunt, saying their camp had been attacked. The Marshal and I drove to the Leide region, and found the camp in shambles. Tents were shred to pieces, glaives were unconscious, a couple with serious injuries.”

“Did we... lose anyone?” Noctis asked, dreading the answer.

“Thankfully, no. The Marshal and I made the call to abort the mission, and the glaives were transported back to the Citadel. Those who were injured were taken to hospital for treatment, but they’ve since been released and are back here now, Majesty,” Gladio explained.

“And we think the resistance did this? Or, the Relicta, I should say?” Noct queried.

“The glaives reported figures in black hoods. It was too dark to see much more than that, they say, but I think it’s reasonable to assume this is the same group we’ve been dealing with since you were attacked in Galahd, Your Majesty,” Cor responded.

“If I could add something,” Prompto spoke up, drawing inquisitive gazes to him, Noctis’ particularly warm and welcoming. “This attack on the glaives happened the night after _you_ were attacked, Noct. What if attacking your glaives was some sort of retaliation after they were unable to finish you off in Accalia?”

“Well...” Noct pondered. “It’s possible, I guess. What do we think?”

“I agree, it _is _possible, Your Majesty,” Monica replied, placing a hand against her chin in thought.

“Yes, after the Relicta failed their assassination attempt, perhaps they assumed that going after those who would defend you would cause you pain of a different kind,” Ignis agreed.

“And it did,” Noct sighed. “I feel terrible for those glaives, especially if I really was the cause of this attack.”   
  
“We all do,” Iris empathized. “I just hope there was at least _some _benefit of you going to Accalia. Did you have any success there?”

Ignis seemed to perk up at that question as he inched himself to the edge of his seat. Noctis tried to disguise the frown that had flitted onto his face. Prompto lowered his head, not in shame this time, but rather in concentration, waiting to hear how Noctis would answer the question.  
  
“Depends on how you define success. If you’re talking about a union with Lady Lila, or one of the other ball attendants, then I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed,” Noct said, but when Prompto dared a glance up, the king was smiling. “But Prompto and I learned some things there that... I think will help my reign in the long run.”

It was Noctis’ turn to glance at Prompto, eyes wary, but Prompto merely gave him a smile in return, nodding courteously, eyes closing softly. It was strange. The proposal in Accalia had shaken him up, had terrified him because he’d known he couldn’t keep his secret from Noctis any longer. But now that everything was out in the open, now that he’d confessed his secrets and knew that Noctis would continue to love him unconditionally, he simply felt lucky to be the one person that the king had asked to marry, out of all of the beautiful people at the ball that night.

“Care to elaborate?” Dustin asked.

“Perhaps not at this time,” Noctis shrugged. Ignis readjusted himself in his seat, sitting back against it, almost slouching, and Noct wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him with such imperfect posture.

“Anyway, we should discuss the attack. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to sit still with my injuries feeling this way,” Noctis said, effectively redirecting the conversation.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Cor agreed. Prompto’s gaze wandered cautiously to Ignis, whose expression was as unreadable as always, but if he _was _displeased with Noctis’ report, for the first time, Prompto didn’t care.   
  
“Please, tell us the specifics of the attack, so that we might identify some sort of pattern,” Monica requested, pen and paper at the ready to jot down notes.

“Well, I was talking with Lila—the secretary’s niece—in her estate. We were on the landing of a staircase, and a Zu with a rider on its back came crashing in, ready for a fight. I’m pretty sure the lower level of the estate was under attack, too. It certainly sounded like it,” Noct recounted. “Prompto, maybe you know more?”

“Um, yes, Your Majesty. Lady Lila returned after you were unconscious, and said there were at least ten cloaked men on the lower level. Thankfully, she and the guards put up enough of a fight that they eventually fled,” Prompto reported.

“Hmm, a fascinating story, _if_ Lady Lila is to be believed,” Ignis mused, crossing a leg atop the other as he speculated.  
  
“What do you mean?” Noct asked, expression curious.

“He means the whole thing could have been a setup,” Cor interjected, drawing all eyes to him. “While we would hope that Accordo is as accommodating as they seem, it is suspicious that this attack would happen during your stay there.”

“You think Accordo is in kahoots with the Relicta?” Noct frowned.  
  
“As much as I dislike the prospect, I fear it is a possibility,” Ignis sighed.  
  
“Maybe the Relicta caught wind of the ball, and thought it was the perfect opportunity to strike. But, then again... Lila _was_ dressed like Luna. Maybe when I expressed my objection to a union with her, she somehow cued the attack?” Noctis pondered aloud. Prompto watched him cautiously, saddened by the barely disguised fear and betrayal on his face; he was seeing those emotions on poor Noctis’ face far too much lately.  
  
“Did you say Claustra’s niece was dressed like Lady Lunafreya?” Gladio questioned.

“Yeah, I mean... Maybe it was coincidence, or maybe they were trying to win me over with whatever they could think of,” Noctis said, lips pressing together, almost pouting from the disappointment that these people could have intentionally played those mind games with him.

“Pulling at the heartstrings, huh? Manipulating you like that sure doesn’t seem like a good way to start a relationship, if that really was their intention,” Gladio grumbled, folding his arms.

“It’s weird, though. I certainly didn’t get any bad vibes from Lila,” Noct said, remembering their conversation on the staircase. She had said her aunt was the one who had pressured her into attending the ball, and that she wasn’t interested in any union with him either. She had seemed sincere in that, Noctis had been sure.

“And the attack happened pretty much _while _we were talking. You know, _while _we were discussing that a union between us wasn’t something that either of us wanted, so I feel like... If she was going to turn her back on me, she wouldn’t have had the time to plan an attack as elaborate as this one,” Noctis went on.

“Unless they had the troops at the ready,” Cor suggested.

“Mm, I still want to give them the benefit of the doubt for now,” Noct said, sounding sure of himself now. “I’ll contact Claustra tomorrow and hear her side of the story before I go calling anyone my enemy.”  
  
“A reasonable approach, Your Majesty,” Dustin spoke up.

“Very wise, indeed,” Monica agreed.  
  
“And your injury, Majesty?” Ignis spoke up, reminding the king that he still hadn’t finished his entire story.

“Oh, right. Well, Prompto and I, with some help from the guards at the estate, were able to take down the Zu. The man on its back dismounted and took off running. I should have waited for Prompto to back me up, but I warped after the guy and caught him. He threw a fist at me, and when I went to block it, he... Well, I didn’t realize he had a dagger on him, and as you can tell, he got me good,” Noct sighed, though he tried to keep his tone light, at least for Prompto’s sake; he looked so pale, Noct swore he was watching the whole scene play out in his head again.

Noct caught Gladio’s eye, and knew he was being silently scolded. Had they not been in such a formal meeting, Gladio would have been calling him out for his lack of awareness, and would have dragged him straight to the training room for a refresher on the dangers of combat. Noctis simply averted his gaze, telling himself that Gladio’s time would be much better spent _thanking Prompto_ than _scolding hi__m_. Prompto had saved his life; that was the important thing.

“Did you get a glimpse of the perpetrator, by any chance?” Iris asked.

“Don’t think so. If I did, I think the pain wiped my memory of it,” Noct shrugged, appearing apologetic.

“Prompto?” Ignis quizzed.

“I-I... actually don’t remember,” he sighed, lowering his head. “I was so concentrated on Noct, I—” He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think of Noctis’ cold form pressed against him, or his hands that had been coated in Noct’s blood.

“It’s okay. You kept him alive. That’s all that matters,” Iris smiled, succeeding in her goal to make that pained look on Prompto’s face disappear, at least for a minute.

“Yeah,” he managed.

“Now, if that’s everything, I’d like to adjourn for the time being. I’m about ready for some more painkillers,” Noct admitted, with a half-smile, earning a soft chuckle from the rest of the group.

“Please, take care, Your Majesty,” Monica said, with a gentle bow of her head.

“Yes, Your Majesty, take care of those injuries,” Cor instructed.

“Will do. Prompto, if you would—” Noct started, pushing himself up from his chair.

“O-oh, of course,” Prompto obliged, hopping up from his seat, and supporting Noct’s back, helping him stand up through the pain. The rest of the council bowed as Noctis stiffly made his way out of the room, Prompto continuing to guide him with a hand on his elbow for support.

Once they’d made it outside, Ignis emerged from the meeting room’s double doors.

“Prompto, I wonder if I might have a word,” he requested.   
  
Prompto and Noctis exchanged a glance. The king’s stern eyes reminded Prompto that he didn’t have to partake in this conversation if he didn’t want to. Noctis still didn’t know the extent of what Ignis had said to Prompto in the past, but the fact that his words had made Prompto pull away from him at a time when they needed each other the most... Noctis didn’t know if he could ever forgive him for that.

Prompto understood that look that Noctis was giving him—that look that told him he could take the easy road out—but he didn’t want Noctis fighting his battles for him. Now that he was sure that being with him was what Noctis wanted, even now that he knew of his dismal future, Prompto knew he could stand up to Ignis on his own. He gave Noct a nod, motioning for him to go on ahead, and Noctis reluctantly obeyed, making his way a little further down the hall to wait for Prompto—somewhere just out of earshot.

“I’m here. But if you’re going to tell me to stay away from Noct—”  
  
“I only wish to know whether you gave him the chance to—”  
  
“To mingle with the crowd? To explore other options? Yeah, I did,” Prompto said, sternly, confidently. “I gave him all the space I could, and in the end, he still came back to me. I told him everything, Iggy, and he’s been really supportive, and... That support is what I need right now.”  
  
“Prompto—”  
  
“I know. I’m not what anyone would choose for the king of Lucis, and I’m sorry about that, but I won’t stay away from him anymore. I have to make the most of this time that we have together, for both our sakes,” he announced, while Ignis remained perfectly expressionless. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. My king awaits.”

With that, he proceeded down the hall to meet up with his partner, elbows linking as they walked away.

* * *

Once Prompto and Noctis grabbed a bite of lunch together in the great hall, Noctis announced that he had a few tasks to take care of, and Prompto headed to the training room to check his work schedule for the week. The anger and tension that had surrounded them in Accordo was long gone now, but still, the moment they were apart, the overwhelming grief and sadness made Noctis feel like a black, demonic hand had curled around his heart, refusing to let go. As he made his way to Ignis’ room, he felt that hand grip tighter, for he knew the upcoming discussion would not be a pleasant one, but it had to be done.

He wondered if he should just let it go, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what Ignis might have said to Prompto—things that might still be hiding in the back of his mind, silently hurting him, discreetly tearing him apart and keeping him from opening his whole self up to Noctis’ love. If there were daemons like that in Prompto’s mind, then Noctis wanted to be rid of them once and for all. How could Prompto live every day to the fullest if he was still haunted by shadows of things he could never be?  
  
And Noctis wasn’t only bothered by the possibility that Ignis had made Prompto feel unworthy; he was also perterbed by Ignis’ idea that their union would endanger everyone involved. Despite Ignis’ concerns, the Relicta’s hate would most likely continue, whether or not Noctis stayed with Prompto. And if they were to marry someday, maybe their leadership would have benefits that no one could foresee. His lover or his kingdom—it didn’t make sense for Noct to have to choose between them. He could have both, could love and protect both.   
  
Noctis knocked on the door, and listened as Ignis sauntered over to let him in.

“Hey,” Noct grunted, when Ignis remained still, looking unsure of his visitor’s identity.

“I was about to come and find you. I’ve got something I need to speak with you about as well—” Ignis stepped back just in time for Noctis to brush past him.   
  
The room was similar to Prompto’s, with a cabinet, bed, desk, and a couple of armchairs. The king didn’t even bother to take a seat; he merely stood beside the desk, keeping a hand on it to steady himself, taking the pressure off his injury.

“Something the matter, Noct?”

“_You _tell _me_. I just have to know... what the hell did you tell Prompto before to make him feel like he and I shouldn’t be together?” Noct asked, trying to keep his voice within speaking range. Despite fighting back a holler, there was no disguising the hurt and betrayal in his voice. 

Ignis paused, letting the words register before he calmly closed the door, definitely not wanting this conversation to be one that was circulated around the upper glaive floor. He adjusted his glasses and navigated his way across the room, his cane tapping against the leg of the armchair. Cautiously, he sat himself down.

“Noctis, as your advisor, I not only had to think of your well-being, but also the well-being of every Lucian citizen. I understand how important Prompto has always been to you, but you’re not a child anymore. It’s time to make hard decisions, which might not always be ones you’d prefer to make,” Ignis explained.

“Okay, sure. A king’s duty is to serve his people, but why do you think that means Prompto needs to be cut out of the picture? He’s a vital part of it,” Noct argued, struggling to remain calm, even though his voice rose in pitch with each sentence.

“You think Prompto’s origins will play in your favour?” Ignis tested, frowning. “I wouldn’t be so quick to believe that.”

“What, so you told him he shouldn’t be with me, just because of some codeprint someone burned onto him when he was a baby?”  
  
“The public might not view him as innocently as you do. People aren’t as kind as you would hope, Noct.”

“You think I don’t already know that? After being attacked everywhere I go? After what happened to Insomnia ten years ago?” Noct retorted, giving Ignis a scowl that he couldn’t see, but could still feel.   
  
“You know, I learned something along the way. People are only unkind when they’re unhappy, and maybe they have a right to be bitter. The war brought about a lot of damage. The world needs a change. But Prompto and I _could be_ _that change_,” Noctis went on, trying to convince him.

“And for how long?” Ignis snapped, bolting up from his seat, and taking a stride toward his king. “Prompto is not going to be here forever.”

“I know that!” Noct hollered back, then forced himself to take a deep breath and calm himself. His voice was softer when he spoke again. “But the nine or ten years he’s got left? It’s enough time to make a difference,” he confidently announced.   
  
After a long pause, Ignis released a sigh, and put a hand to the bridge of his nose.

“So, that’s your resolve.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Well,” Ignis sighed. “Be aware that by pursuing this rapport with Prompto, you risk putting Lucis in further danger, especially if the Relicta decides they don’t approve of your potential reign together. After what happened in Accalia and with the glaives, security must become our top priority. I suggest that, for now, we abort all hunts and close the borders to try and prevent any more Relicta members from getting close to you,” Ignis announced, and Noctis snorted, thinking back to the fearless man who had ridden into Lila’s estate on the back of a Zu. Anyone with the bravery and ability to tame such a massive creature wouldn’t be stopped by closing the borders.

“And stop people from coming to Lucis? The point of all this rebuilding was to allow people to move back here,” Noctis harshly reminded him, his fatigue and pain and grief piling up inside him to the point where he couldn’t hold back his impatience anymore.   
  
Accordo was trying to recover from the past ten years just as Lucis was, and many of Eos’ citizens viewed Accordo as another option for relocation.  More people meant more money and resources, and Lucis needed those things just as much as—if not more than—Accordo. Noct would much rather maintain the open invitation than close the borders to those who wished to enter. The last thing he wanted was to turn away refugees, especially when Prompto was among those who had been given a better life here.

“Of course, I know,” Ignis shot back, frowning deeply. “But if something happens to you, then everything you did to reclaim your throne was meaningless. What was the point of surviving the prophecy if you’re going to throw yourself into the line of danger?”

“That’s not what I’m doing! Keeping the borders open doesn’t mean the Relicta can pour right into the Citadel. I’ve still got enough glaives to keep the palace safe and secure. And if we did close the borders, people would know there’s a threat, and become scared. Others who considered moving here would turn away, and we need the support of the population.”

“I’m only—” Ignis tried to interject, but Noctis went on as if he’d said nothing.

“The more land people rent here, the more the Crown will make, and I can put that money back into restoration and relief efforts.”

“And yet, you won’t raise the taxes on the land to increase that money?”

“Because the people who are already living here can’t afford it! If they can’t afford it, they won’t _stay_ in Lucis!” Noct argued, then he paused, forcing himself to take a breath.   
  
Ignis had always given him advice—_good_ advice, even though Noctis hadn’t always enjoyed following it. He was sure his ideas about the taxes did hold merit; he was sure he had thought the whole affair with Prompto through, too. But Noctis was king now. Maybe he would make mistakes, maybe he would find that in the end, Ignis had been right about some things. But maybe he needed to follow his instincts, and learn for himself whether his decisions were the right ones.  
  
“Look, I don’t want to burn any bridges with you, but I think for now, you have to leave the decisions to me. I’m _going_ to keep Prompto by my side, and I’m going to deal with these threats the way _I _see fit.” Ignis paused, and stood as if he were staring straight at him, unmoving, unblinking.

“I don’t know if that is the best—”  
  
“No, _don’t_... Don’t tell me what’s best,” Noct croaked out, feeling the back of his throat tighten with emotion. “You thought that going to that ball in Accalia was best, but it was degrading and humiliating... You_ know_ I don’t... I _can’t _reciprocate—” Noctis tried, but couldn’t get the words out. “It just hurt, you know? To find out that you had planned the whole thing with Claustra, without even considering my feelings.”

“Noct, my intention was never to cause you harm.”

Noctis breathed in again, a sharp, tremoring breath that just barely kept him from breaking down. He tried not to relive that dreadful evening of mingling with women he could never love, of watching Prompto try to hide his heartbroken expressions, of having to spend three days getting to know a girl that his council hoped he would one day marry.

“So, why did you do it?” he asked, meekly, one shoulder lifting up into a defeated shrug. Even though he knew Ignis couldn’t see him, he still couldn’t manage to meet his eyes. Ignis released a heavy breath, and adjusted his glasses.  
  
“I had hoped you might find someone that you could consider ruling alongside. After the world lost the Oracle, the people lost hope... I thought there might be a way to recreate that joy and hope that had circulated when you were engaged to Lady Lunafreya.”

“But I can’t love that way. It’s... not just some switch I can flip on and off,” Noct tried to explain, but it was hard when he knew the feelings he spoke of were outside Ignis’ realm of understanding.   
  
Ignis had been brought up a certain way, with certain expectations of the world and how it worked. From a young age, he’d been taught all about the Lucian line and previous monarchs, and what they had done during their rule. None of the pieces of that Lucian history had included relationships like Noctis and Prompto had; kings and queens, sure, but something like they had would be considered a serious break in tradition.

“I know, which is why I didn’t think it necessary that you _love _the woman of your choosing. If she would help bring peace to the kingdom, then... I thought that might be enough to persuade you,” Ignis explained, lowering his head, face etched with guilt now. It sounded much worse being put into words than it had all along in his head. Noctis wore a pained frown.  
  
“It’s... It’s not enough,” he said, quietly. “Maybe it’s selfish, but... I would never be content with a relationship like that, one where I couldn’t be myself, or love with my whole heart.”  
  
“Noct...”

“I couldn’t pretend to love someone. The kingdom would see right through it, and I don’t want to be dishonest with my people. They would never trust me if I did that,” Noct continued to murmur, softly, thoughtfully, eyes fixed on the floor.

“Look, I know this is probably hard for you to understand. I doubt _anyone_ could fully understand, but... This wasn’t the first time I felt like this.”

“Like what?” Ignis questioned. Noctis shifted uncomfortably where he was propped up against the desk, urging himself to stand just a little straighter.  
  
“You’ll never know the shame I felt being my father’s only son, a son who held sole responsibility for continuing the line of Lucis, and yet was incapable of the kind of love that was expected of me. By loving another man, I was disappointing not just my dad, but the entire kingdom, the entire world. Eos wanted me to marry Luna, and even if we had gotten the chance in the end, I don’t think I could’ve... I couldn’t have gone through with it,” Noctis finished, shaking and breathless with the thoughts he’d kept buried for so long, but had never expressed in so many words.   
  
Ignis was silent for a long moment, and Noctis wondered whether he was trying to imagine what it must have been like to live in his shoes, with the pressure of the world on him while his heart desired something completely different. He had but a simple response.

“Your father was never disappointed in you.”

“What?” Noct asked, weakly.

“When you told your father of your sentiments for Prompto, he wasn’t disappointed. Worried, perhaps, because of the adversity you might face from the public, but never disappointed. In fact, I... I think he was rather proud of your strength.”

Noctis swallowed hard, hoping with all his heart that that were true. His memories of that day indicated that his father had supported him, but to know that Regis had told others of his pride for him further validated that. Noctis’ heart warmed at the idea. He couldn’t dwell on it for long, however—not when his emotions were so close to swallowing him up. He needed to get through this conversation with his own pride intact.  
  
“That being said, I’m afraid there is a difference between the position you were in as a highschool student and the position you are in now as king. There are even more expectations upon you these days,” Ignis said, earning a scoff.

“Don’t I know it.”

“I _am_ sorry, Noct. If you think I _want _Prompto out of the picture completely, then you have it all wrong. Believe me, I will grieve his passing just as much as you or Gladio, which is why I feel I also have a duty as his friend to keep him away from the pressures of royalty. The press, and the meetings, and the threats, Noct... That’s a lot of stress to put on Prompto, and we have no idea how much that stress will affect his condition, how much it could shorten his life.”

Ignis could feel the pain that his words had caused Noctis; he could hear the slight sway of his stance, could hear the breath that stopped partway into his lungs. Noctis closed his eyes, not wanting to think about that. If Ignis was right, and those duties somehow worsened Prompto’s condition, then no, he didn’t want to put him through that either. But Prompto needed his love and support more than ever right now. He needed to be close to him, first and foremost, but Prompto also needed peace, and if their reign could help bring that peace... Wouldn’t he be better off in the long run?

“I get what you’re saying, and I appreciate your concern, but it’s his choice whether or not he wants to rule alongside me. Whether he does or not doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to stay by his side through all of this, and it also doesn’t change the fact that I refuse to marry anyone but him,” Noctis announced. Ignis lowered his head slightly, realizing now that Noctis’ heart was set on this, and nothing—_no one_—would change it.  
  
“I was only trying to do what I thought was best. For Lucis. For you and Prompto.”

“If that’s the case, then... please, trust me when I say that me being with Prompto right now _is _what’s best.”

Noctis’ expression twinged as his advisor remained silent. Ignis was hesitating. After everything Noctis had just said, he was still hesitating.

“Noct, I fear my role as advisor is becoming rather ineffective at this time,” he eventually said.

“What the hell does that mean?” Noctis grumbled, folding his arms.

“It means... I believe I must take a leave of absence.” Ignis heard Noctis suck in another sharp breath to start speaking, but he held up a hand to silence him.   
  
“In the interest of not burning any bridges,” Ignis added, wanting Noctis to know that his intentions weren’t to hurt him, but rather that he agreed with his idea of keeping the peace.

“This isn’t at all what I intended,” Noct frowned, placing a hand on his hip.  
  
“I understand, but I feel I must take some time to reflect. If it truly is your wish to pursue a reign with Prompto, then I shall require some time to consider how to approach the situation with care.”  
  
“Does that mean... you’re going to try and get on board with this?”  
  
“Until I do, this partnership is meaningless. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Well...” Noctis sighed, fidgeting uncomfortably against the desk. “Y-yeah, I guess.”   
  
“Perhaps you would do better if someone else took over for a while, someone who currently shares the same values and priorities as you do,” Ignis explained. He sounded calm, but Noctis could still sense the hurt and frustration buried beneath layers of stoicism.

Noctis wanted to tell him he was wrong, but in his heart, he knew he was right on every account. Right now, Noctis was angry with him—was angry for making Prompto feel he wasn’t a good match for him, and for setting up the dreaded event in Accalia. That anger would probably only damage the bond between them. If Ignis wasn’t yet on board with him keeping Prompto close, then maybe it would be best to find someone who _was_—someone who could help them work with what they had, and help them portray their relationship as something the people would admire instead of fear, at least until Ignis was ready to embrace their decision.

“Yeah... Maybe it would,” Noctis uttered, gaze falling to the floor, thoughtfully. There was regret in his voice, and yet, there was barely a hint of uncertainty.   
  
A twitch occurred between Ignis’ eyes, like he was startled by Noctis’ answer, but it was too fleeting to say for sure. He cleared his throat, knowing he had put himself in this position, and therefore had very little room to complain about it.

“Very well,” he stated.   
  
Noctis gave a nod that he forgot Ignis couldn’t see, and made his way toward the door. Ignis reached behind him for his cane, and followed his king, reaching for the door handle, and holding it open for him.

“But please, do me a favour, Your Majesty. While you explore this path, don’t let this kingdom down. Don’t let it fall back into ruin,” Ignis said, voice low.   
  
Noctis halted, stunned by what felt like an accusation. Choosing Prompto didn’t mean he was ignoring his duty to Lucis; it simply meant that he would rule a little differently than the kings of old. And maybe that truly was a good thing. Those kings hadn’t been able to prevent political unrest either. He would prove himself. He would.  
  
Noctis merely pressed his lips tightly together, preventing himself from saying something he would regret as he bolted out the door.

* * *

The conversation with Ignis had exhausted Noctis to the point where he was ready to head up to his chambers and sleep for the rest of the day. He proceeded from Ignis’ room, down the main hallway, toward the central elevator. The sounds of voices and laughter filled the normally silent hallways, and Noctis stopped at the open door where joyous sounds emerged.   
  
Curiously, he peeked inside, where ten or twelve glaives encircled a familiar young girl sitting on the couch. Even with her red-pink hair falling loosely along the side of her face, Noctis could still see the grin she was wearing. One glaive had a foot up on the coffee table as he leaned over to sign the cast on her right arm, the others chatting and watching and smiling.

“Hey, Noct, you’re missing the party,” Gladio stated from inside the room, and Noctis’ eyes widened as he caught sight of his friend. It was a wonder he hadn’t spotted him at first glance, as he made some of the other glaives look like toothpicks next to him.

“Didn’t realize there_ was_ one,” Noct replied. Unsure of whether he was welcome, he hovered in the doorway until Gladio waved him in. Hesitantly he entered, hunching as he tried to make himself look smaller and less noticeable, but still earning a few frowns and sideways glances as he entered.

“I cancelled training for this afternoon. I think everyone needed this,” Gladio explained.

“You’re such a good captain,” Noct hummed, playfully.  
  
“Well, morale hasn’t been the best since... the attack, you know?” Noctis’ small smile quickly faltered.   
  
“They all blame me for this, don’t they?” he whispered, once he had come to stand beside his Shield, both of them a couple of feet back from the crowd, watching as the next person stepped up to write their get well message on Fae’s cast.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re here then, isn’t it? Because you’re gonna make things right?” Gladio asked, still not making eye contact with his liege as they stared straight ahead.

“Where’s Prompto? Shouldn’t he be here?” Noctis asked.

“He had guard duty at the front gate, but he already left his signature. Was bragging about being the first one. He cheated, though, being the one at the hospital with her and all,” Gladio smirked, and Noctis let a small smile perk up his lips.

“Have you... talked to Ignis? Did he call you?” he bravely asked.

“No, why?”   
  
Noctis swallowed. Of course, Gladio hadn’t heard the news. If he had, he would have been pounding Noct’s head against the wall instead of inviting him to this little get-together.

“No reason,” Noct fibbed, not wanting to get into that conversation here.   
  
He debated taking the opportunity to distract Gladio further by stepping in and helping himself to one of the markers on the table, but he figured his attempt to sign Fae’s cast would be met with contempt at the moment. He could tell by the scornful and distrusting glances being tossed his way. Clearing his throat, he decided to simply change the course of the conversation instead.   
  
“Things are going to change around here. I know that with all these financial troubles, and me not knowing the right way to go about the threats, I haven't been on top of my game. That ends now,” Noctis told his Shield.

“And what about Prompto?”

“He remains a priority. I’m not abandoning him, either,” Noctis announced.   
  
Gladio lowered his head as a wave of sadness hit him. This was the first time he and Noctis had really gotten to talk about Prompto since he’d learned the truth about his condition. When Noct had called from Accalia, he had been too distraught on the phone to have a proper discussion, and he definitely hadn’t seemed ready to talk during the trek home from Accordo.

“How are you doing with that, anyway? You okay?” Gladio asked, and Noctis blinked slowly. Every time he thought about what Prompto had told him, his body was taken over by a numbness. He wasn’t even sure his brain had fully processed the information. It was simply too hard to take in, too hard to accept.

“The love of my life just told me that he’s going to die. I’m far from okay,” Noctis admitted, his voice coming out weakly, thanks to the lump in his throat. He saw Gladio lower his head further out of the corner of his eye. “But for now, we just have to take things one day at a time, and figure out how we’re going to cope with this.”

“Well, just make sure you treasure every moment. That’s the best advice I’ve got. And make sure to listen if he needs anything. I know that kid has trouble speaking up for himself, so pay good attention,” Gladio said, and Noctis drank in the suggestions, which were actually pretty insightful—the kind of things Ignis would normally pick up on more than Gladio, but he supposed they’d both been taking extra care since Prompto’s prognosis. For that, he was unspeakably grateful.

“Right,” Noct agreed. “I’ll keep that in mind."

* * *

Once he'd had his fill of the party, Noctis continued down the hall, but instead of going straight to the elevator, he decided to make one last detour. He headed for the front gate, and pushed it open, finding Prompto on the Citadel steps, his hands behind his back and his posture tall and strong as he maintained his post. His eyes darted curiously to Noctis as the man gave him a small smile and closed the doors softly behind him.

“In all this time, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you while you were on duty,” Noctis observed, taking in the sight of Prompto in his full Crownsguard attire, with the stiff form to accompany it.

“And besides that girl in Accalia, I don’t think in all this time, anyone’s ever struck up a conversation with me while I was on duty, especially to flirt,” Prompto said, with a wink.

“Who’s flirting?” Noct queried, with a sly raising of his brow.

“Your eyes say it all,” Prompto sang, and Noctis grinned before proceeding forward and taking a seat on the carpeted section of the white concrete steps. He folded his hands around his knees, and stared out over the circular courtyard and driveway, the wrought iron gates and rounded fountain.

“So, I want to talk to you. About a few things, actually.”  
  
“Ask away,” Prompto encouraged, this newly formed freedom to speak openly with Noctis making him feel like he’d been freed from Zegnautus all over again.  
  
“In Accalia, you said that in some ways, you still weren’t okay with where you came from. You meant, because of the way you were created, right? Because of... the things they did to make you...”

“Incapable of a long life?” Prompto breathed. “Yeah.”  
  
“So, you don’t have any grudges against the people of Niflheim?”  
  
“No, of course not. Like I said before, I met a lot of great people from Niflheim over the past ten years. I don’t blame the citizens for the things that happened to me, that’s for sure.”  
  
Noctis gave a soft hum in response, thankful that he held no ill feelings towards the people to whom they might one day give their aid.   
  
“Good to know. But this... This is all so hard to think about. Knowing that I’ll lose you one day,” Noctis admitted, lowering his head. Prompto watched him with sorrowful, slanted eyes as he sat there, practically curled in on himself. “How can ten years seem like an eternity one day, and only a minute the next?”  
  
“I know what you mean,” Prompto agreed, voice breathy as he turned his head towards the sky, the bright, warm sun lining his features with highlights. “I struggled so much when you were gone. Those ten years without you were unbearably long when I was in the midst of them. But when I think about how quickly the next ten could fly by? It’s terrifying.”  
  
“Yeah.” Noctis closed his eyes in pain.

“But I’m okay for now, Noct. Promise.” Noctis smiled gently at the reassurance, and revelled in the comfort of the sun on his face. It strengthened him enough to turn his head back towards Prompto, who continued to stand behind him.  
  
“Just know that you don’t have to put on a brave face for me. Ever. If you’re scared or worried, or need to talk, I’m here, okay?” Noct reminded him, brows creased in worry.

“Yeah. Thank you, Noct,” Prompto nodded, voice full of gratitude. Both turned their gazes back toward the sky, allowing the precious sunshine to warm them. It took a minute before Noctis found his voice again, but when he did, it was stronger than before.  
  
“Listen, politically, things are kind of a mess right now. You know, with the financial situation, and everything,” Noctis said, and Prompto bobbed his head in response, listening carefully. “But once things calm down, well… I want to devote some time to you. I know I haven’t had a lot of time to really absorb what’s going on with your condition, or what’s going to happen when things take a turn, but… over the past few days, I’ve done a lot of thinking.”   
  
Prompto took a couple of steps forward to listen more closely, letting Noctis know that he had his attention, while maintaining his guard posture.

“I was wondering, if you have a list of things you’d like to do. You know, before...” Noctis trailed off, but Prompto still understood his meaning. Noctis dared to look at him where he stood next to him, but to his relief, Prompto’s serious expression hadn’t grown any more solemn. If anything, he looked touched, like Noct’s efforts had warmed his heart.

“You know, like climb the Rock of Ravatogh again, or get a tattoo, or… I don’t know, anything,” Noctis said, with a shrug. Prompto gave him a smile, finally releasing his posture as he reached a hand out for Noctis to grab onto. Noctis smiled, and brought it to his lips, kissing the backs of Prompto’s fingers tenderly.

“You’re a really thoughtful guy, Noct. Thank you,” Prompto murmured, the corners of his lips perking up and refusing to go back down. He couldn’t help but dwell on how sweet it was of Noctis to think of such a thing, and he appreciated it more than he knew how to express.

“I just don’t want you to miss out on any experiences, so if I can help make any of your dreams become a reality, I want to do that for you,” Noctis swore, brushing his thumb over Prompto’s fingers now that he had ended his kisses. Prompto squeezed his hand gently, giving him a loving smile that made Noct feel a little weak—in a stiflingly good way.

“I’m proud of you for putting your kingdom first, though,” Prompto said, needing Noct to know that, because he knew there would always be a part of Noctis that would feel guilty for not giving every second of his attention to him.

“I know I can’t spread myself too thin, but I am going to find a way to support both you and Lucis. So, when things are back in balance, and money’s not so tight, we’re going to take another trip, okay?”

“Okay,” Prompto said.

“So, start making that list, okay?” Noct prodded, with a smirk.

“Okay.”

Noctis breathed in deeply, and closed his eyes, appreciating the freshness of the air, the courtyard still damp and glistening with dew from last night’s rainfall. He wanted to forget about the knots in his stomach, but he knew they were also what was driving him to make a change. In time, there would be peace here in Lucis. Maybe one day, he and Prompto would be gazing out over this place from the balcony, taking in a kingdom that was happy and safe and _theirs_. But for now, he had to take things one step at a time.

You okay, buddy? You look sad,” Prompto observed, watching as Noct’s smile faded, and a distant look took over. Noctis glanced up at Prompto, who stared at him with curious, concerned eyes, his right brow raised slightly in question.

“I _am_ sad. About you. _And_ I sort of had a disagreement with Ignis,” Noctis sighed in regret.

“Not because of me, was it?” Prompto inquired, tentatively.   
  
Noctis raised a hand to his forehead, taking in another deep breath and letting it out heavily as he combed his bangs back with his fingers. He’d been hesitant to divulge that information to Prompto for that very reason; he should have known he’d blame himself. Prompto’s bottom lip curled inside his mouth as Noct’s body language told him the answer to his question.

“It’s not your fault, Prompto. He and I haven’t been seeing eye to eye on a lot of things lately,” Noctis assured him. “With money, and taxes, and land, and the status of the borders... I don’t know. Maybe changing things up for a bit will be a good thing.”

“What do you mean, changing things up?”

“Well, Ignis was kind of threatening to quit, and... I kind of let him,” Noctis admitted, turning his head shamefully towards his partner, whose eyes grew wider.

“Noct!”

“I know, I know. I just... couldn’t take it anymore, you know? The way he was treating you, the things he decided without me. I don’t know, I’m just... I’m honestly kind of a wreck right now,” Noct admitted, tearfully, and he felt Prompto sitting down beside him, his hand finding the curve of his back and rubbing gently.

“There’s been a lot to take in this week, that’s for sure,” Prompto agreed, voice soft and tranquil.   
  
“Finding out the truth about you, the glaives getting attacked…”  
  
“You’re probably exhausted from your injury, too,” Prompto added, and Noctis let his head fall into a deep nod against Prompto’s shoulder. “But it’s gonna be okay, buddy. It’s all gonna be fine,” Prompto promised him.   
  
That was so much like Prompto, comforting him when it was most likely Prompto himself who needed the comfort even more. Noctis accepted the kindness nonetheless, and closed his eyes again, allowing himself to be soothed by Prompto’s gentle touch as he caressed his back.

Prompto wanted to know more about what had happened between Noct and Ignis, but in due time. Noctis needed to decompress, to let all the new information of the week settle in his weary mind.

“You won’t... keep your distance anymore, right? You’ll stay with me? In my quarters?” Noct murmured, eyes blinking slowly, tiredly. He really was exhausted now that Prompto had enveloped him in this warm cocoon; it practically begged him to give in and sleep.  
  
“If that’s what you desire, Your Majesty,” Prompto teased, with a gentle smile.

“It is,” Noct hummed, feeling at peace for the first time in days. He lifted his head, meeting Prompto’s eyes and reaching for his free hand. He clutched it like it was his lifeline.  
  
“Prompto, we’re going to get through this together, okay? All of it. So, don’t ever forget that you can lean on me. I’m _always_ going to be here for you,” Noctis vowed, and Prompto stared tearfully into his eyes. Grateful, he leaned in against Noctis’ shoulder, allowing Noctis to wrap an arm around his back now.   
  
That was all Prompto needed to hear for those months of worrying to fall away. He felt blessed, knowing that not even the truth of his circumstances would_ ever_ keep Noctis from standing by him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to do a quick shout-out to all readers and everyone who sent kudos, comments, etc. I appreciate all the feedback and support for this story, so thank you everyone who has stuck with me so far!! I love reading all your thoughts, and your enthusiasm has been amazing! I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter :)


	15. Insight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I'm putting this chapter up a week early! I kind of edited this chapter and the previous one at the same time, so most of the work on this one was done last week. I hope you enjoy it :)

It was early the next morning when Noctis headed to his study. Still cautious of his injury, he slowly sat down at his desk with a phone number he’d collected from the council. Studying the small scrap of paper on which he’d scribbled the number down, he began dialling. The phone rang two or three times before a man with a slight Accalian dialect picked up.

“Miss Lila Claustra’s residence,”

“Hello, could I speak to Lady Lila, please? Tell her it’s Noctis,” he said, casually. There was a pause on the other end, as if the attendant was trying to figure out whether or not this really was _King _Noctis he had on the line.

“One moment, please.”

Noctis waited a minute or two before anyone else picked up, his fingers tapping anxiously against his desk.

“King Noctis?” Lila eventually asked, and Noctis sprung back to life.

“Lila, hi. I just wanted to make sure everything turned out okay there after the attack. Is everyone alright?”  
  
Lila let out a breath of relief.

“I’ve been meaning to contact you, too, to see how you were doing. Everyone’s fine here, aside from a few cuts and bruises. You definitely got the worst of it,” she said.  
  
She didn’t know if she would ever forget the sight of Noctis, unconscious and so very pale in his glaive’s arms. When she had arrived on the scene, his glaive had been so frantic, almost tearful as he tried to apply pressure to the wound while calling desperately for help.

“I’m glad everyone’s alright. And I’ll heal,” Noctis assured her. “What happened where you were?”

“When I went down to the lower floor, there were more people in cloaks, but they didn’t stick around for long. I really think they were looking for you, King Noctis, because after a man came rushing in from upstairs—presumably the man who hurt you—it didn’t take long for them to flee.”

“Really… Well, I’m glad they were only focused on harming me, and not anyone there.”

”That’s very noble of you, but I’m still sorry that you were targeted during your stay here, King Noctis. I worry that the news of the ball must have made your presence known here, for those who wished to harm you.”

“It’s okay. Seriously, I’ve had people after me for months,” Noct shrugged, with a soft chuckle. He reached for the pen on his desk, and tapped it leisurely against a nearby pad of paper. “You didn’t recognize any of the guys who attacked, did you?”

“They were all hooded, and many of them masked. I’m afraid I couldn’t identify any of them,” Lila apologized. “Sadly, we couldn’t even catch them before they escaped on another one of those giant, winged creatures.”  
  
Noctis tapped the pen a little quicker, nerves getting the better of him. One of the last things he remembered before he’d passed out was Prompto ordering the guards to follow the guy who’d stabbed him. It would have been nice to have caught the culprit, or at least anyone who had been in on the plan.

“It’s fine. If you do get any more information later on, just let me know, okay? My council has certainly had their concerns about all of this.”

“Understandable,” Lila acknowledged.

“Can I offer to pay for the damages? I’m sure those windows they broke weren’t cheap,” Noctis went on, remembering the hundreds—if not thousands—of glass shards that had flown through the room as the Zu crashed through.

“Don’t be silly. Our lack of security is to blame. We should have been able to protect our esteemed guest.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I’d really like to—“

“There’s really no need, King Noctis. Everyone here just wants you to make a full recovery. You saved lives during that fight, and could have very well lost your own. We don’t expect anything more from you,” the girl tried to convince him, and with a sigh, Noctis gave in.

”If you’re sure—”  
  
“I insist,” Lila said, and Noctis could practically hear her small smile on the other end.

“Alright, then,” he chuckled, warmly. “Hey, your aunt wouldn’t happen to be there, too, would she? I’d really like to speak with her as well.”

“She is, actually. I’ll get her for you. Take care, Your Majesty.”

“Thanks, Lila.”

There was a long pause on the line before Claustra picked up, during which time Noctis sketched on his paper with his pen. A line here, a diamond shape there...

“Good morning, Your Majesty.”  
  
“G’morning.”

“I take it you would like to discuss the attack. I am dreadfully sorry that such a thing happened while you were with us,” the secretary stated, as formal as ever.

“It’s okay. I just wondered if you might have any insight into what happened that night,” Noctis said, pen pressing a little harder against the paper as he continued to nervously doodle.

“Unfortunately, no one I spoke to at the estate could identify any of the intruders. I did my best to pull any information out of the guards, but they didn’t have much to report.”  
  
“Right.”

“Is there a problem, Your Majesty?”  
  
“Well, the thing is, I don’t want to go pointing fingers at anybody. As far as I’m concerned, you and I have been on good terms for a while, and I don’t want that to change. My council, however, has their concerns about this attack being... a response to my denial of pursuing a relationship with Lila. I’m assuming your niece told you she and I—?”  
  
“Yes, Lila told me my idea for you two to pursue a courtship was foolish. But I hope you aren’t implying that my people set the attack up as a way to get back at you,” Claustra said, and Noctis could clearly picture her scrutinizing frown and pursed lips.

“I certainly don’t want to believe that’s the case. Like I said, I value the fact that you and I are on good terms, and that Lucis and Accordo are able to exchange goods, and keep Eos on the road to recovery. But I’m afraid I have to voice my concern about this attack as well, because Lila... She was dressed like the Oracle—like Lady Lunafreya—that night. That could only have been to get my attention, right? So if a union between me and Lila was so important that it was deemed necessary to try and manipulate me like that... I have to at least be on my guard, and recognize that the attack could have happened _because _I refused a courtship with her,” Noct explained, his throat suddenly parched.  
  
His heart pounded as he awaited a response, fearing he had crossed a line that could potentially do irreparable damage to the peace between the two nations. He was surprised to hear a soft chuckle on the other end of the line.

“I appreciate your honesty, Your Majesty. Viewing the situation from your perspective, I can see why you might feel we had set you up. And given the severity of your injury, you are wise to question your safety. I can promise you, however, that Lila and I had nothing to do with the attack, and I genuinely have no idea who did. As for Lila’s attire that night, well... Like I said, I tend to go a little overboard when it comes to doting on my niece. I thought she would _want _to marry a king, and I imagined that a union between Lucis and Accordo would only increase the stability of our nations, which could be beneficial to us both. I may have pushed the outfit on her to give her a little... edge,” Claustra reported, with a slightly amused tone to her voice.  
  
Noctis breathed in, mulling the information over before giving a small hum of amusement himself.

“Well, in that case, I thank you for your honesty, as well. It certainly did make her stand out in the crowd. My heart lies elsewhere, however. I hope you won’t take offense,” Noct said.

“Of course, no offense taken. Perhaps we should put the unfortunate events of your stay here behind us, shall we? I, too, would prefer to stay on good terms with you and your kingdom.”

“Yeah, that sounds perfect. And I thank you and Lila both again for the hospitality. The estate was lovely.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“We’ll talk soon?”  
  
“Of course. Good day, Your Majesty.”  
  
Noctis hung up the phone and sat back in his chair, letting out a sigh. His eyes travelled to the paper on his desk, where he’d been sketching all the while. Before him was a striking rendition of Prompto’s barcode, the thickness of each bar almost identical to those on Prompto’s wrist, the diamonds on each end of the code the perfect size and shape, the numbers below it correct and in order. Noctis brushed a finger over it with as much care as if it lay atop Prompto’s skin. It seemed that even in the midst of a meeting, he couldn’t get Prompto off his mind; he still lay there in his subconscious, the dull ache in Noct’s stomach a constant reminder of his grievous predicament.

A quiet knock sounded on the office door, and Noctis looked up from the sketch.

“C’mon in.”

“Hey,” Prompto greeted, clasping the edge of the door and peering into the room. “I thought you might be here. You busy?”

“Not too busy for you, of course,” Noct smiled, warmly, inviting him inside with a wave of his hand.  
  
Prompto closed the door gently behind him and headed for the chair in front of Noct’s desk. He plopped himself down in it and rested his elbows on his knees, staring up at Noct with slight worry, though he still pushed forth a smile.  
  
“You’re up awful early. I kinda missed ya,” he said, though tried not to show too much disappointment from waking up alone.

“Sorry about that. Figured it was going to be a busy day. Thought I’d better get at it,” Noct said, glancing at the to-do list he’d done up the night before.

“So, what’s on the agenda?”  
  
“Well, gotta make a formal apology to the glaives. Cor’s gonna set something up for tomorrow afternoon. And I guess I have to start the search for an advisor. I need someone to fill the position as soon as possible.” Noctis could easily see the way Prompto fidgeted in his seat.  
  
“I know, this thing between Ignis and I isn’t ideal, but I do feel like I need to give someone else a try. Someone who will support the two of us, no matter where our future might lead,” Noct went on, only to see Prompto squirm a little more.  
  
Prompto had been trying to avoid thinking about Noct’s proposal lately, because he still wasn’t ready to make any big decisions. He was just getting used to this new no-secrets relationship with Noctis, and was perfectly content enjoying the peace, at least for a while. Plus, it would probably seem like a big slap in the face to Ignis if he were to marry Noct the second he stepped out the door—not that he didn’t fancy the idea a little bit.  
  
“You call Claustra already?” Prompto inquired, smoothly changing the subject.

“Yeah. I really do think she and Lila are innocent in all of this.”

“Then what about the Relicta? What are we going to do about them?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet,” Noct admitted.

“’Cause I’m not too keen on waiting around for them to hurt you again,” Prompto said, lowering his head, mind racing back to that night in Accalia, though he tried not to let the incident replay in detail. “I’m also worried about the glaives.”

“Hey, how are the glaives doing anyway? How’s Fae?”

“The glaives seem pretty unsettled. And Fae, well, she’s okay. Seems quiet since the attack, though.”  
  
“Well, that’s understandable, right?” Noct said, empathy written in the lines between his brows.  
  
“Yeah, I guess. I’m not used to seeing her so vulnerable, you know? I mean, she was only eleven years old when we met, but even through all that time, she didn’t normally... She didn’t normally show _fear_,” Prompto tried to explain.  
  
Noctis cringed a little at the thought of what her attackers might have done. If they were willing to stab him without a second thought, he didn’t imagine they’d shown much mercy when cracking bones either.  
  
“You think we could visit her?”  
  
“Uh, y-yeah. You _want_ to?” Prompto asked, blinking, like Noct’s sudden interest in her was the surprise of the century.

“Of course. I’d like to apologize to her in person. And besides, she _is_ like a daughter to you, right? You’ve been watching her grow up for...”

“Eight years,” Prompto finished for him.  
  
“Eight years. And I know I wasn’t a part of that time, but... I still want to share this with you. If she’s important to you, she’s important to me, too, you know?” Noctis offered, with a gentle smile. Prompto continued to sit there in shock for a moment before he reciprocated the smile and stood up.  
  
He wandered to the front of the desk and pressed his hands down onto it, leaning forward to find Noctis’ lips. Noctis released a soft moan at the contact, hand reaching for Prompto, fingers sliding over the side of his neck. Prompto continued to smile as he pulled back, his fingers tousling the hair that concealed Noctis’ ear, and tenderly tucking it behind it. He let out a soft, warm hum of laughter, and Noctis stared at him with eyes that sparkled in the chandelier light.  
  
Prompto averted his eyes, suddenly finding himself a little flustered by the admiring gaze, and he glanced down to see his barcode etched onto Noctis’ notepad. His smile lessened, the emotion in it changing slightly, but it didn’t disappear. He reached out for it, finger skimming across the numbers at the bottom of the drawing.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about me, huh?” Prompto teased, meekly. It was nice to be on Noctis’ mind, but right now, he knew it was due to his tragic fate rather than any romantic fantasy. Noctis reached for his hand where it lingered on the paper, his fingers lightly clasping around Prompto’s.  
  
“I know you didn’t want me to be sad, but... I really don’t think I can help it,” Noct said, eyes searching Prompto’s for forgiveness.

“Y-yeah. I get it. It was silly of me to even ask. Especially when _I _was devastated over losing _you_.”

Noctis clutched his hand a little tighter, and pushed forth a bittersweet smile.

“Glad to know I was missed, at least,” he jested, feebly.  
  
Prompto responded with a chuckle, which sounded like he could have been on the verge of tears. It caused Noctis to stand up, emerging from behind his desk to ease a hand against Prompto’s back. Noct rubbed gently, and listened until he was sure Prompto’s breathing was steady, steady enough to fight off those tears. The last thing Noct wanted was to be the one to make him cry.

“Come on. Let’s go see how Fae’s holding up,” he said with a smile, making Prompto smile weakly in return.

* * *

Ignis perked up when he heard a knock at his door. He called out his permission for the visitor to enter, and quickly determined that the long strides and heavy steps belonged to Gladio. He had been half-hoping it was Noct, coming to his senses after a good night’s rest, and on his way to apologize, but he supposed it was a naive idea. Gladio frowned as he came further inside the room, watching as Ignis fumbled to find the zippers of his suitcase.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Gladio asked, voice low, but slightly teasing. “You taking a vacation?”  
  
Ignis sighed, and took a step back from the suitcase, giving up the search for now.

“Perhaps an extended vacation. Noct and I are clearly not on the same page right now, and he agreed to my suggestion that a change in advisor might be beneficial,” he explained, and Gladio just stared at him for a second, then blinked, folding his arms and leaning forward.

“Wait. You serious?”

“Unfortunately, I am.”

“What the hell, Iggy? What did that little asshole say to you?!” Gladio demanded, grabbing Ignis’ shoulders, and spinning him towards him. His yellow eyes begged Ignis’ faded ones for answers, for further explanation, for anything.

“You shouldn’t refer to the king in such a manner, Gladio. And he said just what I told you. We didn’t agree on many things lately, but I believe that… the issue with Prompto was the final straw,” Ignis lamented, lowering his head.  
  
He didn’t want to be that guy who pushed his friends apart. He loved both Prompto and Noctis dearly, and would gladly give his life to keep either of them safe, but his entire existence had been based around Noctis, and what was best for him and his people. He couldn’t ignore Lucis, nor could he ignore the safety risks of putting Prompto in the public eye.

“Only because he’s going to take it as an insult against him and Prompto. He’s just gonna see you as not showing support for them, and I can see why he’d be pissed off at that, but…”

“It’s not that I don’t want them to have a future together, Gladio. If the circumstances were different, you would certainly hear no argument from me, but Noctis has a duty. If being with Prompto jeopardizes the trust the people have for him now, then we could easily end up facing another war,” Ignis said, pulling away from Gladio’s grasp and reaching for his suitcase again. His fingers blindly searched for the zippers, and this time he found them. He pulled them in opposite directions, and reached to flip the top of the suitcase open.

“War? Do you really think it would come to that?”

“Well, there’s no way of knowing for certain, but after all Noct went through to even get a second chance at ruling his kingdom... I do not wish for him to risk it.”

“I guess, but maybe we should give ‘em a chance. Maybe there’ll be more support for Noct and Prompto as rulers than you think. Besides, like I said before, even if we told Noct to stay away from Prompto, he would just sneak around behind our backs,” Gladio reminded him, knowing it was one hundred percent true.

“Which is why I hoped that by telling Prompto of my concerns, he might be the voice of reason, and tell Noctis that perhaps getting involved would not be the best course of action,” Ignis said, heading for his dresser, and slipping a hand down the front of it until he reached the third drawer. He pulled out a few of his shirts, and carried them over to the bed, laying them down near his suitcase. One by one, he ran a hand over the fabrics to choose which ones he would take with him.

“Wait, you told Prompto your thoughts?”

“I felt obligated to do so. He had a right to know what might happen. He had to consider not just his life with Noctis, but what kind of impact it would have on the world, thanks to Noctis’ status.”

“Ain’t that a little harsh?”

“He’s not a child anymore, Gladio.”  
  
“So being in love makes them children?”  
  
“I don’t— I simply don’t know what to think, Gladio,” Ignis sighed, lowering his head, defeated.

“Damn. When did things get so complicated, huh?” Gladio breathed, letting out a sigh and tilting his head up toward the ceiling, rubbing his face in sudden exhaustion.  
  
In his heart, he still couldn’t imagine telling the two younger men to stay apart. After seeing firsthand how heartbroken Prompto had been when he’d lost Noctis to the crystal, Gladio had developed quite a soft spot for the youngest member of their party. And knowing that Noctis had found out about Prompto’s condition in far from ideal circumstances only made Gladio feel even more sorry for them. Whatever happened between them sadly wouldn’t last forever—their discoveries in the magitek facility told them that—so why not let them enjoy what time they had, even if some people didn’t like it?

Gladio honestly couldn’t see many people from Niflheim having a problem with a Niff-Lucian union—not after the relief everyone had felt once the war was over, and after fighting alongside each other to bring back the light. Prompto was the representation they needed to reassure them that this would be a peaceful joining of nations, not a dominating takeover. It was doubtful Tenebrae would mind either, as the people there had been happy to regain their independence, and rule and rebuild themselves since the fall of the empire. And as long as Lila and Claustra didn’t mind the union, there was no real reason why Accordo should be bitter, either. Disappointed, maybe, but not bitter.  
  
The only ones who might have a problem were members of the Relicta—those who still held a grudge for all the things Lucis had done wrong during both Regis’ and Noctis’ generations, and they were a separate issue. Maybe nothing Noctis could do in regards to marriage would fix their opinions of him. Maybe appeasing them would have to be tackled in another way. But that didn’t mean they shouldn’t at least try.

“This is stupid, though. You shouldn’t have to leave, Iggy,” Gladio grunted, stepping forward to watch him meticulously fold his clothes and set them down in the suitcase as neatly as could anyone with perfect vision.

“I’m leaving of my own volition. I believe I would only bump heads with any new advisor, and Noct and I could use the distance,” Ignis said.

“But where will you go?”

“I… haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Iggy,” Gladio murmured, and Ignis felt a strong hand upon his shoulder.  
  
He spun as he was gently guided to do so, and he was pulled in against Gladio’s chest, the warmth of his body radiating even through his Kingsglaive t-shirt. Ignis allowed his nose to press in against the fabric, revelling in the feeling of care and safety that had always come from Gladio. That feeling had always been there, like something they both knew was there but were afraid to grasp.

“It’s only temporary, Gladio. Until I can wrap my head around all of this.”

“Well, you’re gonna be missed around here, partner,” Gladio murmured, letting the embrace linger a moment longer.

“Thank you, Gladio. For being such a good friend.”  
****

* * *

“Hey, kiddo,” Prompto greeted, giving a wave as Fae opened the door to her dormitory. She gave a tiny smile at the sight of Prompto, eyes flickering nervously between him and Noctis as she stood in the doorway. Noct tried not to stare at the sling around her neck, nor the mildly swollen fingers that peeked out from within her cast, and instead gave her what he felt was a welcoming smile.

“You wanna take a walk with us? Noct says the flowers in the garden are pretty beautiful right now,” Prompto grinned, sticking a thumb behind him in the general direction of the garden.

“Is this some sort of intervention?” Fae asked, quirking a brow. Prompto shook his head, laughing.

“Intervention? No, why? Are you up to something bad?”

“Only if 'something bad' includes sleeping half the day and eating all the get-well-soon chocolate I want,” she shrugged.  
  
“Nah, under the circumstances, I think you’re good. Honestly, we just wanted to check on ya. Thought you might enjoy some fresh air,” Prompto continued to smile. Fae’s eyes wandered toward the king again, and Noctis gave a gentle nod, silently agreeing with Prompto’s statement.

“Um, sure. Let me grab my uniform.” She turned and headed back inside the dorm, one-handedly digging her Kingsglaive coat out of the trunk at the end of her bed, and returning to the entryway. She slung her folded coat over her shoulder and tugged the door closed behind her.

“Need a hand, buddy?” Prompto asked, offering to take her jacket for her.

“Sure. Thanks.”

Carefully, Prompto wrapped her coat around her shoulder, letting it fall over her sling, before guiding her good arm through the other sleeve. Noctis watched fondly, feeling an odd sense of pride from seeing Prompto in this parenting role. He still had a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that Prompto had grown up so much, but it was heartwarming all the same when he got to see his kindness extended to others this way.

“All set?” Prompto asked.

“Yeah,” Fae nodded, glancing at the coat again, making sure it looked secure enough to not tumble off her shoulder.  
  
“Okay. Lead the way, Noct.”  
  
“Okay.”

Noctis headed down the hallway, around the corner, past the doors to the ballroom, and out a glass door to the left. Despite the many trees in the garden, the sun still managed to dot them with sunlight through the breaks in the leaves. Noct continued to lead the pair over the cobblestone path, weaving through every colour flower one could imagine. Those flowers surrounded them on both sides of the path. The air smelled amazing, a mixture of grass and dew and the fragrance of petals. Birds chirped cheerful little notes while bees and butterflies fluttered and perched on nearby blossoms.

For Fae and Prompto, it almost felt like stepping into another life. They had almost forgotten that something so alive and natural and beautiful could exist. The rainbow of coloured flowers would have been considered a miracle during the world of ruin, with its dark skies and dirtied buildings and daemon blood. Fae dared a glance at Prompto, her face a mix of pain and disbelief and restrained joy, like she wasn’t sure whether she should express how rare and wonderful a sight this was.

“I know. Haven’t seen anything like this in a while. Kind of surreal,” Prompto stated for her, and Noct turned around, gaze curious.  
  
“Something wrong?”  
  
“No. Not at all,” Prompto smiled. In this place, everything felt _right _for once, and Prompto wanted to appreciate it for all it was worth. Fae gave a small nod in agreement, still gazing around in awe. Noctis smiled, relieved that the two appeared to be enjoying themselves.

He led them to a small, white iron table that was surrounded by chairs, all pieces of the set accented with winding decorative vines. Noctis motioned for them to sit before sitting himself down as well. They arranged themselves in a semi-circle, where they were able to admire a section of garden straight ahead. Noctis tipped his head back slightly, sucking in a breath of the garden air and letting himself relax.  
  
“It _is _beautiful out here,” Prompto murmured, eyes gleaming as he took it all in. “So, how’s the arm?” he asked, glancing to his right where Fae sat. The question brought the girl out of her reverie, and she glanced down at the sling with disdain.

“Alright.”

“Still sore?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Noctis turned his gaze toward her, cautious as he watched. The white fabric that secured her arm and fastened tightly around her neck, the small bit of hard cast that peeked out from behind it—this was all his fault. He knew it, the glaives knew it.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Fae,” he announced, lowering his gaze to the table instead. He set his hand down upon it, the iron cold against his skin despite the sunlight above. His fingers curled into a fist. “Those people attacked you as a way to hurt me. I thought that if the glaives were not in uniform during the hunts, then the risk of being recognized and harmed would diminish. I guess I was wrong. You still weren’t safe enough.”  
  
Fae stared at the king for a moment, trying to process it all. She took in that seriously pained expression that the king was wearing—his closed eyes and furrowed brows—and despite how much she had wanted to blame someone for the attack, she knew in that instant that it couldn’t be him. He hadn’t meant to cause this. Not at all.  
  
“Everything was going fine up until that point, Your Majesty. Yes, some people did recognize us, but most people just seemed happy that the king was doing his part to keep Eos safe. They thought the point of us going undercover was because you weren’t searching for credit. They thought you were making Eos safer out of the kindness of your own heart, and didn’t need or want the publicity,” Fae explained, voice still quiet, nervous as she addressed this man that she hardly knew, and yet devoted her life to. Noctis slowly looked up at her.

“Really?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Well...” Noctis pondered that for a moment.  
  
If what she said was true, then he had been right to follow his instincts before, despite Ignis’ caution. Somehow, his actions had been seen in a positive light. Now, he almost felt guilty that the point of it all had been for monetary gain, but he couldn’t let himself think that way; the majority of that money would go back to the people, after all.  
  
“You see, Noct? You gotta have a little more faith in your own decisions sometimes,” Prompto said, giving him a small but encouraging smile.

“Yeah, I guess,” Noct replied, not quite sure what to think.  
  
He took comfort in knowing that this time, his decision hadn’t lost him the trust of his citizens, but he couldn’t help feeling like it was pure luck. If people had known about the financial crisis, that trust probably would have been shattered in an instant; it would have looked like he was taking the hunt rewards for his own benefit, just as Talcott and Ignis had warned him about. But maybe he couldn’t let himself focus on that. In a weird way, the hunts had been a success, up until the attack.

“And none of the other camps were targeted, right? Maybe the attack was only a warning to you,” Prompto said, then his eyes darted apologetically towards Fae. “I-I don’t mean ‘only’ like it’s not a big deal. I just mean—”  
  
“I know. It’s okay,” Fae assured him, but her expression was tired, weary.

“I’m sorry, Fae. I didn’t mean to bring you out here just to bring you down. We can change the subject,” Noctis said, looking as sorry as Prompto did.  
  
“Yeah, what he said,” Prompto agreed.  
  
“Sure,” the girl uttered, softly.

“So, Noct, what do you call that flower over there?” Prompto asked, pointing to a patch of stunning, vibrant blue blossoms, their long stems sticking out from the soil.  
  
“You think _I know_?” Noctis scoffed. “I don’t know a dandelion from a daisy.”  
  
Fae sputtered out a laugh that neither man had been expecting, and Prompto grinned, glancing between her and Noctis.  
  
“I know, right? He doesn’t exactly talk like a king, does he?” he teased.  
  
“Hey,” Noct groaned, folding his arms like a pouting child. Fae managed to stifle her laughter this time, lifting her good arm and pressing a knuckle to her lips, trying to hide her amusement.  
  
“Yeah, I can see why the gardener wouldn’t let you help, either. If you can’t tell those two apart, you definitely would have had a garden full of weeds,” Prompto continued to jest, beaming wildly.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Noct sighed.  
  
Fae got up from her seat to investigate the original flowers in question. They were an ocean blue with numerous petals that came to a point. The centre of the flower was yellow, and the petals a dusty azure where they emerged from it.  
  
“I think this is a lotus,” Fae announced.  
  
“Huh? You know a lot about flowers?” Prompto asked, as he and Noctis watched her curiously.

“Not really. But my mum was a gardener, and... I sort of remember her teaching me this one.”

Prompto stood up, wandering over to stand behind her. He stared down at the beautiful array of blues and yellows and smiled tenderly as he felt Noctis come to stand beside him.  
  
“You can take one with you if you’d like,” Noct offered. Fae glanced back at him in soft surprise.

“Really?”  
  
“Yeah. Any one you want.”  
  
Fae turned her head back toward the garden, lips pressing together as she wondered which one she should pick. To be honest, she couldn’t even remember her mother’s favourites anymore—not her favourite flowers, nor her favourite colours. But she supposed any of these would be a nice reminder of her.

“Hey, aren’t those lotuses, too?” Prompto asked, pointing to a section of bright red in the back. “They’re definitely your colour. They match your hair perfectly.”  
  
Fae hummed a gentle laugh, and reached out to touch one of the vibrant petals, dragging her fingertip along where the red faded to pink near the centre. It _was_ quite a good match. She glanced back at the king in question.

“Is this one okay?”  
  
“Of course,” he smiled, gently.  
  
Bravely, Fae plucked the flower from the garden and went to stand up, finding herself a little off-balance with one arm restrained the way it was. Prompto grasped her good elbow and helped her to her feet, then took a step back, watching as she admired the red flower in her hand.  
  
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she said, eyes closing as she breathed in the sweet scent.

“Hey, no worries,” Noct replied, in gentle reassurance. Prompto draped an arm over his forehead and gazed up at the bright sun that filtered in through the trees.  
  
“Whew, sure is warm out here. You guys want something to drink?”  
  
“I guess I am getting a little thirsty,” Noct agreed.

“Lemonade?” Prompto asked, and was greeted with two eager replies of approval. “Okay, I’ll be right back. You two stay put and enjoy the great outdoors.”  
  
He made a quick exit before either of them could protest, and Noctis and Fae exchanged a smile, feeling a little awkward being left alone.  
  
“That’s Prompto for you. No way would he let us make the trek when we’re both all bandaged up,” Noct laughed softly. Fae’s gaze wandered to Noctis’ middle, and quickly away.  
  
“Prompto said you were hurt in Accordo,” she sympathized. “He said the cut was too deep for him to heal on his own.”

“Yeah, but I’m alright.” He smiled, and waved for them to sit down again.  
  
Fae delicately twirled the flower stem between her fingers, still admiring the king’s gracious gift. Spending time with him like this certainly made her view him in a different light. Of course, she’d assumed that someone Prompto deemed the love of his life _must _be someone kind, but she had never been close enough to experience that kindness for herself. It was comforting to know that Noctis had a good heart like his father, but it troubled her to know that others might not view him the same way.  
  
There had been a lot of talk around the glaive floor that week. King Regis had made mistakes, and perhaps his son was allowed to do the same as he figured out his place, but many glaives were still afraid—afraid of what choices Noctis might make that would endanger people. Even Fae had had her moments of doubt since the attack, wondering if this man was really worth risking everything, regardless of what he meant to Prompto. But being here in his gentle presence made her realize that Noctis cared—for his people _and _his glaives. He deserved the chance to correct his mistakes.  
  
“Hey, I want to personally thank you for what you did out there. For fighting, for being so brave, and strong enough to come back alive,” Noctis spoke up, interrupting her thoughts.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” she replied, bowing her head.  
  
Noctis stared at her, her head low, and green eyes worried. She was just one example of the many people who had been hurt. He didn’t know what the others had been through, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know—what injuries they had endured, what families they might have left behind to mourn for them if they hadn’t made it home.  
  
“Just let me know if there’s anything I can do to make this better, okay? I don’t want to see you or any of the glaives suffer, especially due to my actions,” Noctis went on, concern etched into his features. Fae gave a timid glance up at him before her eyes flickered away again.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I’ll keep that in mind.”  
  
“You’ve got some good friends in the kingsglaive, don’t you?” Noct said, smiling fondly as he tried to redirect the conversation to something a bit more cheery. “I saw you had quite the support group yesterday.”  
  
His eyes wandered to her injured arm, where even through the fabric of the sling, he could see the colourful signatures that lay on the cast underneath. Fae met his eyes and smiled back, recalling the get-together that had taken place in the common room the day before—when Gladio had called off training so that the glaives could have some proper R&R.  
  
“Oh, yeah, I do,” she nodded.  
  
“Feel free to say no, but... would you mind if _I _signed your cast?” Noct asked, his smile nervous now. Fae blinked in surprise before setting her flower down on the table and reaching for the tie at the back of her neck, onehandedly undoing the knot in the sling.  
  
“Sure.” She carefully pulled the fabric away and lay her casted arm down on the table. She reached into the pocket of her coat, and withdrew a bundle of coloured markers, held together by an elastic. She set them down on the table as well.

“Go right ahead,” she encouraged.  
  
Noctis scooted forward to the edge of his seat and scanned the selection of colours before choosing a royal blue marker from the batch. He got up from his seat and courageously made his way to her side of the table, trying to do so with confidence and grace, though his body threatened to ruin that with his pained swagger. Fae’s gaze was ever watchful, seeming fearful even that he might just keel over. It was evident that the glaives hadn’t been the only ones to suffer at the hands of those mysterious men in black; the king had, in fact, been harmed the most. Surely he deserved more slack than some of the other glaives had been giving him lately.  
  
Noctis smiled gently as he crouched before her, his elbows resting lightly on his knees. He analyzed the cast, which was covered in various colours of ink, with the names of the girl’s friends and fellow glaives, and messages of encouragement and love. He scanned for familiar names, quickly locating those of his friends:

  
_Feel better soon, girl. We need you out there._

_ -Gladiolus_

  
_Never give up, buddy. We’ll get through this._

_ -Prompto_

  
Noctis pulled the cap off of the marker slowly, allowing himself time to think of what to write. After a second or two, he pressed the marker to the hard surface.

  
_Get well soon, Fae. I promise you, things will be better._

_ -Noctis_

  
Noct gave her a smile before getting to his feet and setting the marker back down on the table. Fae lifted her arm to read the cursive writing. At first glance, it didn’t seem to hold much more meaning than the other messages scribbled onto the white cast, but as she re-read it, she considered the words he had chosen. He didn’t say things would _get_ better. He had promised that they _would be _better.

Yes, the kingsglaive as a whole was angry, and scared, and hurt, but maybe she could help convince her friends to give the king a second chance to prove himself—prove that his intentions weren’t merely empty promises.

“Thank you,” she said, eyes meeting the king’s as he sat back down.  
  
“No, thank _you_,” Noct continued to smile.  
  
Fae looked down at her cast again, thumb skimming over the royal blue ink of the king’s name before drifting to the orange of Prompto’s name beside it. Her expression turned sad as she stared at it, wishing that there were some way to always carry a piece of Prompto with her, but like most things, the cast wouldn’t remain with her forever.  
  
“I was talking to Prompto yesterday. He said that while you two were in Accordo... he told you _everything_,” Fae said slowly, carefully. Her eyes drifted up to meet Noctis’, which slanted in response, his eyebrows creasing with sorrow.  
  
“Yeah, he did. I... I think I’m still in shock,” Noct admitted, with a small shrug. He managed a chuckle, but it was weak and audibly forced.  
  
“I know. It’s awful,” Fae said, swallowing hard, gazing out at the garden. She wouldn’t let herself focus too hard on the words, knowing it could bring her close to tears that she _absolutely _didn’t want to let free.  
  
“It’s so hard. Ever since I found out, all these things keep occurring to me. All these things he would say when I was totally oblivious to his deeper meaning. Like asking me if I would still want to be with him if there ever came a time when couldn’t rule alongside me anymore. He would allude to the fact that life was short all the time, but I didn’t realize that for him... It was so much shorter.”

“Uh-huh?”  
  
“And he would get so scared sometimes, asking if he looked sick. He was terrified that his condition would tear us apart, one way or another.”

“Yeah,” Fae acknowledged. She couldn’t imagine what Noctis must be going through, to have been so close to Prompto and not know a thing.  
  
“S-sorry. You probably don’t want to hear all this personal stuff,” Noct fumbled, having momentarily forgotten his audience; it had just felt good to finally get his thoughts out in the open, to give them a voice.  
  
“No, it’s okay. I’m honestly just glad he finally told you. He was so sad before.”  
  
Noctis tilted his head toward the sky, blinking, fighting just as hard against his emotions. He thought back to that quiet and distant Prompto, the living evidence that he had been sad during those horrible fourteen months of secrecy. And yes, Fae had known that Prompto had been hiding the truth from him, but he couldn’t be angry. It hadn’t been her secret to tell; he understood that now.  
  
“He said you were there at the hunter’s camp with him the day he found out,” Noct breathed, lowering his head again to search her eyes. Fae’s gaze was tentative, worried. “How did he react? Was he... scared?”  
  
“Well,” Fae said, shivering. She’d done her best never to think about that day, but if Noctis was going to help Prompto through this, then maybe it was best for him to have every scrap of information. “At the time, he just sort of... chuckled. ‘_Well, there you go_’. That’s all he said. He seemed almost resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to have a long life. But when you came back, Your Majesty... That’s when he really got scared, when he really got _sad_.”

Noctis clapsed his hands together, elbows resting on the table. He leaned his head forward, lips resting against his fists, eyes teary. He had figured as much—Prompto had practically _told _him as much—but to know that someone on the outside had witnessed those changes... It made Prompto’s suffering even more real.  
  
“What are we going to do?” Noct asked, breathlessly, helplessly.

“He’s seemed a lot better since he told you. A lot more at ease,” Fae tried to console, pushing forth a bittersweet smile.  
  
“Yeah,” Noct said, pausing. She sounded so wise, wise beyond her years perhaps, but maybe that’s what the years of darkness did to people. It aged them.

In some ways, it made Noctis feel like even Fae had more maturity on her side than he did. It made him feel even less capable of running his kingdom, but he forced himself not to think that way. He wasn’t incapable; he merely had to recognize the importance of others, and seriously consider the input of people who had lived through the time that he had missed. He had known that all along, known that Prompto could guide him because he understood the world better than he did, but he hadn’t fully considered that other people could hold that knowledge as well—people like Fae.  
  
“If you don’t mind my asking, how old are you?”  
  
“Nineteen.”

“Hm. Not much younger than Prompto and I were... when I ended up in the crystal,” Noct mused, eyes distant. He remained quiet, but for once, Fae knew exactly how to break the silence.

“He cares about you so much,” she announced, her sad eyes and timid smile somehow giving off an air of encouragement. “I know this must be hard on both of you, but you’re doing the right thing. All Prompto has wanted all this time was to have you back in his life, and now he does, so... Just stay with him, okay? He needs you.”

Noctis met her sincere, determined green eyes, and allowed himself a smile that was small, gentle, and most importantly, grateful.  
  
“Thank you, Fae. I know you mean the world to him, too. He needs us both. And I want to thank you for being there with him, even when I couldn’t be,” Noct assured her. She smiled wider now, looking appreciative of the acknowledgement.  
  
“So, let’s agree to do everything we can for him. Anything to make his life better.”  
  
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Fae nodded, not needing an official order to agree to that task.  
  
“Alrightie! We’ve got two regular lemonade, and one pink lemonade for the lady,” Prompto announced, entering the garden with a round tray of glasses in hand. He set the glasses down one-by-one in front of their recipients before setting the tray down in the centre of the table.  
  
“Looks great,” Noct said, pushing away the lingering feelings of sadness and mustering a smile instead.

“Thanks, Prompto,” Fae smiled, too, reaching for her pink lemonade and sipping some of the delicious liquid up through the straw.  
  
“Aw, just look at you guys. My two favourite people,” Prompto beamed, admiring the sight of his _family_, sitting happily in the sunlight. It did his heart so much good to be with them like this, in such a beautiful place, with no secrets to hide. He plopped himself back down in his own chair, and Noctis reached for his hand, making him look at him with surprise.

“I think we feel the same about you, buddy,” Noct beamed back tenderly, and Fae nodded in agreement as Prompto glanced between the two of them. With a soft chuckle, feeling more blessed than he’d once thought possible, he reached for his drink with a grin, savouring this perfect moment, content to stay there until the sun set.

* * *

When hunger finally became an issue, the three of them left the garden, and headed back to the dormitory. Fae continued to clutch the flower that Noctis had so kindly given her, and Prompto was heartened to know that his partner had treated her with such respect and generosity. As they reached the dormitory, Prompto reached out to get the door for her.  
  
“Thanks for coming out with us,” he grinned.

“Thank _you _guys,” Fae replied, with a small smile. She gave Noctis a bow, who responded with a kind nod, then her eyes travelled to Prompto. “Could I talk to you alone for a sec?”

“Sure thing. Gimme a minute?” Prompto said, gaze darting back to Noctis.  
  
“Yeah, of course,” he said, taking a couple of leisurely steps back. “I’ll be here.”

Fae led Prompto a few steps down the hall—away from the open door and away from Noctis. Once they were out of earshot, she halted, and turned to face him.

“Something wrong?”  
  
“He’s really kind, Prompto,” Fae said, eyes almost sad as she gazed down at the lotus in her hand.  
  
“Yeah,” Prompto said, slowly, looking completely unsure of her intention.  
  
“That’s why, I feel I owe it to you guys to tell you... After the attack, some of the glaives were talking about how they were losing faith in the king. Some even talked about abandoning,” she divulged, and Prompto’s jaw dropped a little.

“What?”  
  
“Well, a lot of us were spooked by what happened, and... I don’t know. Some people are scared it’s not worth the risk.”  
  
“Are... are you one of those people?” Prompto asked, carefully.  
  
“No, I’m not,” Fae shook her head, determinedly. “But His Majesty said if there was anything he could do to make this better, that I should just say the word. And I think that... maybe he should abort the hunts.”

Prompto pressed his lips tightly together. He knew Noctis would be stressed without that income. Ending the hunts meant cutting him off from the rewards, and the treasures. Fae must have seen the tension on his face, for she kept talking quickly, hand waving in reassurance, the flower bouncing with it.

“Prompto, the other glaives and I are honoured to serve and protect the king, but... maybe there are other ways to help Eos. At least until those guys in black are gone.”

“Yeah,” Prompto breathed, shoving a hand nervously through his hair. With Ignis gone, he wasn’t quite sure how they would come up with new ideas, but he knew he should at least suggest to Noctis that they try, even if he would be less than thrilled about it. “That’s really good to know. Thanks for telling me.”

“I didn’t want you two to find about this the hard way. If His Majesty can fix things before any glaives abandon, it’s better for everyone, right?”  
  
“Yeah, definitely,” Prompto said, finding his smile and reaching for her good shoulder. “And thanks. For trusting him.”

Fae smiled in response, simply glad that she had made Prompto proud. They headed back after that, Fae pausing in front of the dormitory when Noctis looked their way with a smile.

“Thank you again for this afternoon, Your Majesty, and for the gift,” Fae said, raising the lotus a little to catch his attention.

“No worries. I appreciate you joining us, and I hope you continue to feel better,” Noctis smiled, warmly, nodding to her arm. She gave him a look of gratitude before turning to head into the dormitory.

“See you soon, okay?” Prompto grinned, and she gave him an eager nod as he shut the door after her. Prompto gave a sigh, turning back to Noctis, who watched him curiously.

“Everything alright?” the king asked, arms folded.

“Well, she wanted me to tell you something. About the glaives,” Prompto announced, biting his lip.

“What is it?”  
  
“The attack really shook them up. She said some of them are talking about abandoning, and she kind of hoped that you would consider aborting all hunts,” Prompto said. Noctis frowned a little, but didn’t seem nearly as perturbed as Prompto had feared he might.

“She said they’re honoured to serve, but some of them are afraid it’s not worth the risk. And maybe they’re right, Noct. I mean, look at what the Relicta did to Fae, and what they did to _you.”  
  
_Prompto hadn’t meant to, but his hand found the front of Noctis’ suit, fingers laying over the bandaged area, thumb brushing over it. His hand lingered, his eyes staring at the concealed injury with disdain. Noctis leaned his head forward, close enough so that it rested against Prompto’s. Prompto exhaled, his breathing shaky and scared.

“I’m okay, Prompto,” Noct whispered. “And if this is what needs to be done, then I’ll abort the hunts. Because the glaives are right. It’s not worth the risk.”

“What? What about the money?” Prompto asked, his worried eyes meeting Noct’s. Noct shook his head, forehead still pressed lightly against his companion’s.

“We’ll make it through somehow. We’ll find another way to support everyone. I’m going to fill that advisor position as soon as possible so that we can come up with some new methods. I’m sure there are other resources we just haven’t thought of yet,” Noct assured him.

“So, you’re not upset? You’re not worried?”  
  
“Well, of course I’m a _bit _worried, but I’m more relieved than anything. We are so lucky that everything turned out okay with the hunts. Everyone made it back alive, _and _both the glaives and the public saw it as an act of my good will to make the world safer, rather than a quick cash grab. But I don’t want to rely on luck nor dishonesty to get me through. I made a promise to Fae that I would do whatever I could to help, and I intend to keep that promise. We’ll figure out other ways to keep us afloat,” Noctis consoled. Prompto rubbed his hand against Noct’s abdomen tenderly.  
  
“I don’t know how you’re so calm,” he murmured.

“Maybe because you’ve already been a huge help to my kingdom today.”

“Huh? Me?” Prompto gaped, eyes widening. He pulled back to gaze at Noctis properly, and Noct gently reached for the back of his neck.  
  
“Prompto, you introduced me to Fae, and spending time with her today actually helped give me insight into how my glaives are feeling. I might be able to take action swiftly enough to prevent most of them from abandoning. That’s beyond beneficial,” Noct smiled.  
  
“Y-yeah, I guess. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“Not to mention, getting to know Fae a little better made me... feel closer to _you_.”

“Noct,” Prompto whispered, eyes closing softly, expression exuding gratitude. “I’m really glad you two got to spend some time together, too. It meant a lot.”  
  
“I know,” Noct promised.

“And I want you to know that you never had any reason to feel jealous or threatened by her, because she was never a _replacement_ for you. But she does hold a special place in my heart. I took her under my wing, I watched her grow up, and to be honest, she’s the perfect example of someone who lost everything in the fall of Insomnia.”  
  
“She’s had a hard life, huh?” Noct acknowledged.  
  
“Yeah. I think that’s why she and I are so close. What she went through... that could have been me, Noct. If you hadn’t taken me with you on that roadtrip, I could have ended up exactly like her. Orphaned, no family, and only continuing to fight because it was the only thing I _could _do, without disappointing the people I cared about,” Prompto explained.

“Prompto...”  
  
“I know. It’s tragic, and it’s terrifying, but it’s really important, too. It’s people like her that we should be thinking about as we rebuild,” he finished.  
  
Noctis couldn’t help but notice the way Prompto had said ‘we’ so casually, as if they had already begun ruling Lucis together, but he avoided pointing it out, not wanting to make Prompto backtrack and correct himself. Noct was sure it was a slip of the tongue, but still, it was a little heartwarming to think that Prompto was thinking that way, even subconsciously.  
  
“What?” Prompto asked, lifting a brow.

“Nothing. I just... I think you’re right. Honestly, I don’t know what I would do without you,” Noctis said, with a smile, before he realized he'd had a slip of the tongue himself—a horrible one, at that. His expression saddened instantly, mouth twitching with apology.

“I-I didn’t mean—”  
  
Prompto merely reached for the back of his neck in response, pressing their foreheads together again. He shook his head almost teasingly, his smile present, but forced.  
  
“I wish we’d never have to find out,” Prompto whispered.


	16. All He Can Give

Noctis waited in the meeting room, fingers tapping nervously against the table. It had been one week since Ignis’ official resignation, during which time Noct had continued to rule without an advisor. He had relied on his council to guide him on any urgent matters, but avoided making any major decisions until a new advisor stepped into the role.

It had been a difficult search. Noctis had reached out for recommendations regarding those who might be good candidates for the position. He had even pursued a few leads, only to be politely turned down. When it had started to seem like it might be impossible to fill Ignis’ shoes, one of the men Claustra had recommended contacted the Citadel by means of a letter, expressing interest. Noctis glanced at his watch. That man was due to arrive any minute. Despite Noct’s eagerness to find someone who would help implement his ideas, he’d still been dreading this meeting all morning, especially with those awkward feelings of guilt swirling about inside him. He tried to remind himself that letting Ignis go had been the correct choice at the time, and that this new advisor could be the change he needed to start making things right.  
  
And for once, things _were _going right. This potential candidate had passed all the initial screening tests with flying colours, had passed security checks, and had work experience in a government position, which Noctis hoped would bring new insights to the monarchy. Noct had made his apology to the glaives, things were good between him and Prompto. Right now, he couldn’t complain.

The door finally swung open, and two glaives entered with their hands behind their backs, escorting another man who looked to be in his late thirties or early forties. His face was worn and scarred, and his short, light brown hair was cut close to his scalp. Short bangs came an inch or so down his forehead, hanging far above pale blue eyes.

“You must be here about the advisor position,” Noctis said, standing up from his chair as the man entered. Graciously, he waved to the seat adjacent to him, directing him to his destination. The man gave a grateful nod and proceeded forward, accepting the king’s offer for a handshake.

“Dolosus Duglasi, at your service. It is an absolute pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty,” the potential advisor smiled, and Noctis smiled warmly back.

“The pleasure is mine. Shall we sit?”

The two took their seats, and adjusted themselves comfortably before Noctis folded his hands atop the table. He watched the two glaives as they went to stand guard at the door, remaining within the room to ensure the king’s utmost safety. With the Relicta’s whereabouts unknown, Noct couldn’t be too careful.  
  
While his Shield would have been one of the obvious choices for today’s personal guards, Noct hadn’t wanted Gladio nor Prompto involved. With emotions still running high after Ignis’ departure, he knew they couldn’t approach this meeting with a clear head. Truth be told, it would be difficult for Noctis, too, but he was going to do his best, especially when this advisor might help him achieve his goals regarding Prompto. The sooner he got someone who supported them in their relationship, the sooner Prompto might feel at ease—maybe even enough to reconsider his proposal.

“You come very highly recommended, as far as the people in Accordo are concerned. I understand you were a member of the government for a while over in their region?”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. Yes, I was, for quite some time.”

“Any particular reason you wanted to relocate?”

“I’m originally from Tenebrae. I was an only child, and my father raised me on his own. When I was quite young, he took me to Accordo to try to avoid the war, hoping that it would be safer for us there, since the empire’s focus seemed to be mostly on Lucian regions. He’d always had his heart set on living in Lucis. He loved the landscapes. Used to talk about them all the time. Unfortunately, his wish to live here didn’t come true before he died,” Dolosus explained.

“So, this is like coming home for you? You’re living out your father’s dream?” Noct queried, his tone gentle and understanding.

“Yes, that’s the gist of it. I have the utmost respect for Secretary Claustra, but my heart calls me to Lucis. My duty is here. If I can help get this beautiful kingdom back on its feet, then I will most certainly do what I can. I believe it would have made my father proud,” the man went on.

“Glad to hear it,” Noctis smiled. He could certainly relate to that strong will to please his own father, even though he was long gone—gone from this realm, at least.  
  
“Now, there are a few things I’d like to discuss right off the bat so that I know where you stand on the matters. A couple of members of my council have already briefed you on some of what has been going on, correct?”

“Yes, they have, Your Majesty.”

“Then you probably know about what happened with my kingsglaive recently while out on the hunts I’d assigned them. I’ve decided to abort those missions for the time being, as I’m currently in a position where I can manage without that small profit, but I am going to need some other form of income in the near future. I need to finish rebuilding my kingdom, and I also require a way to provide resources that I promised to places like Galahd. We’ve been stalling for a while now, and people aren’t going to get any happier if they are forced to keep waiting for our aid,” Noctis said, appearing perturbed.  
  
“Okay,” Dolosus hummed, head bobbing slowly in thought.  
  
“It was suggested to me that I raise the taxes on the land to gather more income. Problem is, if I do that, I know people will be forced to relocate. The citizens of Lucis are still recovering from the events of the past decade. They can’t afford to pay more, and they shouldn’t have to. I want to give them their home back, not make it too expensive for them. What would you suggest?”

“Well, instead of raising the taxes, are there any resources here that are exclusive to Lucis from which you could make a profit? Something that other regions would purchase?”

“Hmm… The first thing that comes to my mind is Lucian tomatoes,” Noct admitted, chuckling softly with amusement. Dolosus snapped his fingers in agreement, grinning.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Something unique that could create revenue. Anything else you can think of?”

“Hmm… Lucian carp and catfish.”

“And you could also include Leiden potatoes and peppers,” Dolosus reminded him.

“That’s excellent, actually,” Noctis agreed, his heart feeling lighter already.  
  
“If you were to create a farming district here in Lucis, that would create not only more means for trading and selling resources to other nations, but would also create more job opportunities for the citizens. Local farmers, construction workers... Many people could play a part in this.”

“Yeah, being a city boy myself, I guess I never thought about farming or produce on such a large scale, but that could be really helpful,” Noct smiled.  
  
“I’m glad you think so, Your Majesty.”  
  
“Now, the other issue that has arisen because of these hunts with the glaives is the possibility that some of them might abandon. I have a very reliable source that told me the glaives lost some faith in me after they were attacked, and although I have made a formal apology to them, I still fear that some may leave. Any suggestion on what I should do if that happens?”

“Well, you could always recruit new members. Using television, posters, and similar media could work to entice people.”

“The other problem is, financially, I’m not in a position to support a much larger staff at this time.”

“So, don’t pay the new glaives in cash or cheques, Your Majesty. Offer them food and housing for the first few years of service. As you’ve said, many people are still recovering from the last ten years, and have little means to support themselves. Trade them housing in exchange for their services. I guarantee you, many will be grateful for it.”  
  
Noctis blinked as he pondered, one hand coming to rest against his bearded chin, thumb stroking the stubble pensively. He lowered his head, thinking of Fae, who was the perfect example of someone in that position. Prompto had asked him to give her a permanent home here at the Citadel in exchange for her service, and as far as he knew, she had been happy with his agreement to such terms. Although she was one of those also being paid for her services, others with no family and no home could still easily find comfort in such an agreement; in exchange for doing some standard guard duty, they would be granted three meals a day and a roof over their heads.

“That certainly sounds reasonable. Worth a try, at least,” Noctis agreed, smiling as his problems were potentially solved, one by one. The next issue, however, would be the deal-breaker; this one was the closest to his heart.

“My final question to you is about a matter that’s very personally close to me,” Noctis started, swallowing the fear that had made his voice a little weak. Dolosus sat forward in his seat and mirrored Noctis’ position with his hands folded in front of him on the table as he listened intently.

“Fifteen years ago, I fell for a young man for whom I continue to care deeply. He was born in Niflheim, but was raised a Lucian, having come here when he was only a year old. I’ve been told it would be unwise for us to marry, that it would create political turmoil, prevent me from producing an heir, and would lose me the remaining respect of my people. What is your opinion on this? And please, I need you to be entirely honest.”  
  
Noctis pressed his palms flat together and brought them against his lips, almost wanting to hide from the answer, but needing to hear it anyway. He held his breath, waiting while the man pondered the situation with a deep inhale.

“While there is a chance it _could_ create political turmoil, I believe this could be presented to the public in a way that does the opposite. People came together when the world was in ruin. Of course, there will always be those who are prejudiced, but I think a lot of stigmas towards the citizens of Niflheim have fallen by the wayside. Your marriage could be a symbol of peace, one that shows it does not matter your origins. In the end, we are all the same,” the man said. Noctis nodded, but when his eyes continued to show some fear or uncertainty, Dolosus continued on.

“As far as producing an heir goes, I would say, yes, you will eventually need to think about that, but technology these days certainly gives you options.”  
  
“You think so?” Noct quirked a nervous brow.

“I do. And lastly, I don’t think you will ever lose the respect of your people, Your Majesty, so long as you do what you can to provide for them, and continue to be generous towards other nations as well, just as you have done thus far.”

Noctis hummed, and gave a smile, lowering his hands from his mouth. He knew the man was probably just telling him what he wanted to hear, but he hoped there was some level of sincerity to his words.

“Thank you for that, Mr. Duglasi. I’m certainly trying. So, personally, do you have any qualms about a union between Lucis and Niflheim, as opposed to, say, Lucis and Tenebrae or Accordo?”  
  
“No, certainly no qualms, Your Majesty. Tenebrae, Accordo, Niflheim... None of them have an official monarch anymore, so it makes the most sense for you to marry whomever your heart desires. In addition, being a king who marries for love could quite possibly earn you a lot of respect on its own. It is a sign of an honest and open king, and I feel that may make people warm up to you.”

“I wish with all my heart that could be the case,” Noct breathed.  
  
“It can be, Your Majesty, so long as your rapport is framed the right way to the public. And I would be happy to work with you on such a matter. ”  
  
“Thank you, Mr. Duglasi, for your insights and optimism.”

“Dolosus is fine, Your Majesty.”

“Dolosus? Alright,” Noctis said, before he pushed his chair back and got to his feet. The other man followed immediately after, and Noctis held a hand out to him again.

“Dolosus, if you would, I would like you to sign this. It gives us permission to do a thorough background check, and it’s also your agreement to get fingerprints taken with the local authorities. Once you’ve successfully completed the full security screening, I would like to do a trial period with you. If after three months, you have proven to be what I am looking for in an advisor, the job is officially yours.”

“Really? I am so honored, Your Majesty. Thank you so much for this opportunity,” Dolosus said, his blue eyes slitting as he smiled widely. Noctis pushed forward the contract and pen that had been on the table since the start of the meeting, and Dolosus quickly scanned it and signed it.

“Don’t let me down,” Noctis smiled, with a small downward quirk of his brows to indicate that he wasn’t kidding.

“I will not, Your Majesty. Thank you again,” Dolosus said before being met by the same glaive who had escorted him inside. With a nod and a smile, Noctis gave the cue to escort him out.

“You are dismissed as well. Thank you for your presence,” Noct said, addressing the remaining glaive who stood against the wall. He bowed in response before exiting, and Noctis sat down again, relieved to be alone with his thoughts.

It came as no surprise to him that less than a minute later, Prompto and Gladio were hovering in the doorway, and Noctis looked up to see them looking like curious children, wondering if they were allowed to enter. Noctis sighed, and waved them in, not particularly eager to hear what their reactions would be when they discovered he’d actually found a potential candidate.

“How did _that_ go?” Prompto asked, as he and Gladio came to stand behind the long stretch of seats. Prompto gripped the back of his chair tightly, not sure he wanted to know the answer, but needing to, regardless.

“Well, he answered all the questions to my satisfaction. I’m going to do a trial period with him once security gives the all-clear,” Noctis said, unable to ignore the looks of slight disappointment on his friend’s faces—but maybe that was because they weren’t trying to hide those looks at all.

“So, you two seem to be on the same page?” Prompto asked, and Noct nodded.

“About you and Prompto, too?” Gladio quizzed next, knowing that was the question Prompto had wanted to ask in the first place.

“Yeah, he definitely seems to think we can work with it, which is a big load off my mind,” Noctis said, letting out a breath of relief.

“For sure,” Gladio agreed. Although it killed him to know that Ignis and Noctis were at odds, he also couldn’t shake that idea that Prompto would be gone before they knew it. He stood by his belief that if Prompto and Noctis could enjoy even a short reign together, it was far kinder to let them do so than to fight them on it.

Noctis got up from his seat and stretched his arms above his head, giving a yawn, as the day had already exhausted him. He stepped away from his seat and reached for Prompto’s back, his hand lightly rubbing between his shoulder blades.

“So, what happens now?” Gladio asked.

“Well, I guess we just get a move on the security screening process. Gladio, would you mind taking this to Cor? He’ll get the ball rolling,” Noctis said, handing over the contract that was on the table.

“Gotcha,” Gladio agreed, accepting the papers. “So, when do we get to meet him? This new advisor guy, I mean?”  
  
That question earned a somewhat incredulous laugh from Noctis.

“No offense, but I’m not in a huge rush for that to happen. I want him to settle in here before anyone starts making him feel like he’s Ignis 2.0, who has to prove whether or not he’s better,“ Noct said, with only a bit of sarcasm.

“Aw, come on, we wouldn’t do that,” Prompto whined.

“Eh, we _might_ do that,” Gladio smirked, earning a wide-eyed glance from Prompto. “I’ll see you guys later, then,” he said, dismissing himself with a nod.

“And what about me? Anything I can help with?” Prompto asked, turning to face Noct a little better, while Noct’s hand remained on his back, continuing its gentle touch.

“I just want you to focus on that list of yours, okay? It will take a few days before the new advisor starts, but he might be able to get us out of this bad financial situation. Once that happens, I want us to be able to just get up and go when a good opportunity arises,” Noctis explained.

“I’m kind of stuck when it comes to ideas, Noct,” Prompto admitted. “Whenever I think about writing things down, it… I don’t know, it just makes me sad.”

“Then don’t think about it for what it is. Think about it like it’s just another roadtrip, where it’s only you and me, and you get to pick the destinations. It’s all about having fun, okay?”

Prompto hummed a response, but it was noncommittal, the intonation in his voice making it sound like he was unsure. Noctis stepped closer to him, his arm reaching further around Prompto’s back to grip his shoulder. He held his other hand flat out in front of them, moving it in an ark as if painting an invisible picture.

“If you and I were twenty years old again, with no obligations, and no worries about our future, where would you want us to go? What would you want to do? What were your aspirations back then?” Noctis asked, hoping it might get Prompto’s mind on a happier track. Prompto’s gaze was unfocused as he stared past Noctis’ hand, and Noctis watched the worried frown on Prompto’s face slowly dissipate, the corners of his lips curling up into a tiny smile instead.

“You keep thinking about it, okay?” Noctis murmured, pressing a kiss to Prompto’s cheek, then a second one, but Prompto turned his head in time for him to meet his lips instead. Noctis smiled in slight surprise, before closing his eyes and letting himself enjoy the kiss. When Prompto pulled back, he watched with a smile as Noctis’ eyes drifted lazily open.

“I can’t believe the guy who used to fall asleep drooling on my chest has become such a gentleman,” Prompto smiled, his voice soft and sincere, but Noctis scoffed.

“I _didn’t_ drool,” he defended himself, closing his eyes and sticking his nose up in the air. Prompto chuckled lightly.

“My shirts said otherwise, but whatever. That part about being a gentleman? I mean it, and just… Thanks, Noct. I thought I could deal with all of this on my own, but I’m glad I don’t have to. I’m glad you’re here.” Noctis reached for the side of Prompto’s face, and dragged his fingers along until they reached his chin. Prompto tilted his head, giving Noct an alluring little stare.

“Well, that’s good, ‘cause I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, love,” Noct said, in that velvety voice of his before Prompto raced him to another kiss.

* * *

It was later that afternoon when Noctis was startled by the ding of his phone, interrupting him from doing up his latest report. He didn’t mind, especially when he thought it might be Prompto alerting him that he was done of his guard duties for the day. As he clicked on the unread message, however, he realized it had been from Gladio. His heart still leapt when he read its contents.

_ Message received at 3:43pm  
Gladiolus Amicitia: Hey, I know it took me forever to remember to send you this, but here’s that slideshow I mentioned before. The one that Prompto made for you. Thought you’d probably still wanna see it. Glad this new advisor guy is gonna help you two navigate _ _ through these _ _ tricky _ _ times. I know you’ll make it work. _

Noctis felt his lips curl up into a small smile of gratitude, as his thumb continued to scroll through his phone. Below Gladio’s message was a black box with a triangular play button over it. The video was all loaded and ready to play, but Noctis knew he would need a few minutes to prepare his heart for this. Gladio had indicated that Prompto had poured his heart and soul into this video, after all.  
  
Noct abandoned his half-written report, stuffed his phone in his pocket, and left his study, heading for his destination outside. He made his way through the garden, his feet leading the way across the brown cobblestone path, past the tiny stone gazebo, fountain, and outdoor table and chair set. He followed the path to the left, weaving through a maze of flowers—purples, yellows, blues, reds, whites. The gardeners really had done a wonderful job of salvaging what little foliage had survived the fall of Insomnia and years without sunlight, and had exceeded Noctis’ expectations for replanting and regrowing this spectacular garden that Noct remembered from his childhood.  
  
He continued on until he reached the centre of the garden, which opened up into a wide circle filled with grass. This was a more private part of the garden—far from the area that he’d shared with Prompto and Fae the week before. A few gravestones were scattered among the circle—one painfully familiar, and the others eerily foreign to him.  
  
His mother’s grave was one he’d visited often. When he was young, he used to sneak out here not only as an escape from his royal duties, but also to simply visit with his mother. He would sit there cross-legged, tracing his small fingers over her name’s engraving on the stone. He wondered what wonderful parts of her his infant mind had forgotten. He wondered if she watched over him, even now that he was fully grown. Noctis bravely proceeded forward, trailing a hand gracefully over the top of her gravestone, letting her know he was there.  
  
“Hi, Mom,” he whispered. His hand slid off the side of her stone and hovered in the space between that slab of granite and the next. It took a lot of coercing his hand onto the next stone, and this one was much colder to the touch—it seemed that way, at least.  
  
“Hi, Dad.” His voice was much weaker this time.  
  
He gazed down at the stone where his father’s name was written, along with the words: _Loving father, treasured friend, beloved king. _Noctis lowered his hand to brush over the letters, blurry-eyed.  
  
“Yeah. That was you, huh?” he smiled, softly, sniffling.  
  
It was the first time he’d gotten up the nerve to actually see it for himself. Cor, Dustin, and Monica, had played a part in the headstone decisions; Noctis was proud of the job they had done. The words suited his father perfectly. He gave the stone a longing glance before he proceeded to the next row of graves.  
  
Like the first, this row was home to two headstones side-by-side. The first was Noctis’, on which only his name had been engraved, sometime while he had been in the crystal. He knew his friends—who had drawn from his magics—hadn’t lost hope in him, and believed he would return, but Cor had ordered the engraving on the off-chance that Noct wouldn’t be back. Noctis knew it was fair; he was to sacrifice himself after his return anyway, so preparing a grave for him seemed logical.  
  
He knelt before the eery sight of his own name on the headstone, but smiled weakly as he spied the tiny gifts that had been left at the foot of his grave. The stems of bouquets that had blossomed and wilted, a fish keychain, a strip of prize coupons from the arcade he used to visit, and the first selfie Prompto had taken of the two of them during their roadtrip—gifts all evidently from Prompto.  
  
He couldn’t help but wonder how often Prompto had visited this place. He couldn’t imagine how dangerous it must have been to venture back here when the city had consisted of nothing but blackouts and daemons. Prompto had risked life and limb to bring him these gifts, and that alone made Noctis’ love for him flood through his body, filling him with the purest feelings of endearment.  
  
Yes, this was the perfect spot for Noct to watch his slideshow—in the peaceful garden, with his parents beside him, and physical proof of Prompto’s love before him. Besides, this was the location where Prompto had intended the show to be viewed; it was where Gladio and Ignis had seen it for the first time, and where he’d hoped Noct’s spirit would somehow see it as well.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Noct reached for the phone in his pocket. He clicked to his previous text from Gladio to where the slideshow displayed paused on the screen. Fighting against trepidation, he pressed the play button, both hands gripping his phone as he watched.

“_Alright, Noct. Smile for the camera_,” came Prompto’s sing-song voice, the screen still black.

“_You kidding me? It’s my birthday, don’t I get a say in this?” _Noct grumpily retorted.

_“Nah-uh_.” The sound of a camera click sounded, and a picture of the two of them faded in from black. Noctis was sitting at the kitchen table in his apartment, with his arms folded and a pointed, coloured party hat on his head. Ignis and Gladio were behind him with noisemakers in their hands, and Prompto was halfway between Noct and the camera with his arms outstretched, grinning so widely his eyes were closed.

As a soft piano piece began to play—a tune Noctis recognized as one they’d danced to together in the ballroom the night of their school prom—the picture dissolved into a video of that same birthday party. The video’s original audio was muted, and Ignis and Gladio were shown chatting with each other at the kitchen counter. Prompto was obviously behind the camera, and he zoomed in on each of them before focusing in on the decadent, candle-covered chocolate cake intended for Noctis. Prompto poked his head into the camera’s view, and grinned, pointing to the cake and giving a thumbs-up before disappearing again.

He guided the camera around to Noctis next who was sitting in the kitchen chair, chin in his hand, looking rather unimpressed. He seemed to jump—probably when Prompto spoke to him—and he waved wildly at the camera lens, not wanting to be recorded in such a ridiculous party hat. That was definitely princely blackmail.

Noctis laughed at the memory as he watched it play out before him, feeling emotion rise into his chest. It was a light feeling, yet it felt like it might swallow his lungs.

The video blurred into a new image—Noctis on the end of the dock in Galdin Quay, fishing rod in hand, looking back at Prompto as he snapped the photo. It faded into a picture of him and Prompto in front of an arcade machine, arms around each other’s shoulders, and grinning at the camera screen. The next was of the four of them outside the Citadel the day Prompto had completed his Crownsguard training.

The slideshow continued, taking Noctis back in time to so many fun and precious moments. Him and Prompto in the snow one day when school had been cancelled, him smiling in the Crow’s Nest Diner, the four of them at the top of the Rock of Ravatogh, Prompto kissing him on a motel rooftop, him kissing Prompto by the fountain in Lestallum at the Assassin’s Festival. It was only three minutes, but it took him through a hundred memories, and as it faded to black, he found himself choking back sobs.

He pressed the phone tight against his chest, clinging to it like it might help him cling to the memories. It was a beautiful gift, one he would forever keep in his heart. It was solid proof that he and Prompto had always loved each other; he felt comforted by the idea that they most likely loved each other even more now. If his new advisor was right, then maybe a true, honest, real love like theirs _would_ be something his people would appreciate—even admire.

He reached out to the gravestone beside his own, the one that had long ago been set aside for whoever might one day be his spouse. Fingers locking around the stone, he used it to help himself up off the ground. He brushed himself off and continued to stare at the blank granite.  
  
He didn’t know what the future might bring, whether he and Prompto might one day find eternal rest alongside each other here in this garden, or how painfully soon those days may come, but he knew one thing for certain. Prompto had given him the blessing of knowing what it was like to love someone with every part of his soul, and he would forever be grateful for it. Whatever the world had in store for them, Noct felt confident that they could handle it. Together. Until the end.

“Prompto,” he whispered, turning his head toward the sky. “Thank you.”

* * *

Several days passed, and Noctis had heard nothing more about Prompto’s list. Life had gotten busy. From looking over paperwork, keeping up with his daily hearings, continuing to monitor progress on Dolosus’ security clearance, and filling out the final paperwork for Ignis’ leave of absence, Noct was pretty well run off his feet. It was one of those nights where he was stuck in his study. He had looked over so many documents that day, his vision was actually starting to blur.

“Hey, Noct? You have a minute?” Prompto asked, knocking timidly on the door to the study. The rounded room was dark, the dozens of bookshelves barely visible, despite the plain, yellow lamp that sat upon the desk for illumination. Noctis looked up from the stack of paperwork, peering at Prompto from above his thin, gold-framed glasses.

“For you, always,” he smiled, gently. He finished making a note as Prompto quietly closed the door behind him, and dropped his pen as Prompto came around to his side of the desk.

“I’ve been working on my list,” he announced, holding the paper out in front of him with both hands, and Noctis looked up at him with a surprised gleam in his eye.  
  
Part of him had doubted that Prompto would follow through with it. He’d figured that even after their last conversation about it, Prompto would regard it as some silly thing that he hoped Noct would forget about in time. Noct was so glad he had taken it seriously.

Noctis reached up to take one of his hands, while the other continued to grip the paper, and he gently tugged him down to sit with him. At first, Prompto merely sat on the armrest, but as Noctis patted his lap, he took the silent invitation to squeeze into the chair with him, legs draped over his thigh.

“Let’s hear it,” Noctis softly murmured. They locked gazes just long enough to exchange a smile before they both drew their attention to Prompto’s handwritten note.

“Well, I’d like to visit Meldacio HQ, if we could. There are some hunters there that I wouldn’t mind seeing again,” Prompto started.

“We can do that. That’s an easy one,” Noct agreed, rereading the first line.

“I’d like to have one of my photographs featured on the cover of a popular magazine. And I’d kind of like to fix up an old car, do some tinkering. You know, like Cid and Cindy do.”

“Yeah, I’m sure we could arrange a trip to Hammerhead. Those two would probably be happy to have you work with them for a few days,” Noct agreed. “What else?”

“Well, I don’t know if this is possible, but... I’d sort of like to find out if my parents are still alive,” Prompto said, with a timid shrug, unintentionally drawing Noctis’ gaze to him. Sad, worried eyes scanned Prompto’s solemn and embarrassed ones.

“You never heard from them again? In all this time?” Noctis asked, clearly shocked, feeling almost embarrassed that he’d never thought to ask about them.

“Honestly, Noct, I’m still not sure if they even survived the fall of Insomnia. I mean, they never called to check in, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that they died in the attack,” Prompto said.

Noctis felt a sting of hurt and rage for these people who had failed his beloved Prompto in so many ways—leaving him on his own as a child, never giving him proper love and support, never even checking in to see if he was still alive. Sometimes Prompto had wondered if they would have forgotten about him altogether if he hadn’t been still living in their house the odd time they had come home. And so, sadly, Prompto was right; they could have simply been continuing their neglectful ways now.

“Even if they did survive the fall, they might not have made it through the decade of darkness,” Prompto added, face pensive and sullen.

“Tell you what, I’ll have someone check our government database. Maybe there’s some record of them,” Noctis said, realizing his hand had found its way to Prompto’s back at some point while they’d been talking. Gently, his thumb brushed against the curve of his spine.

“What do you think you’d say to them? If they were alive?” he gingerly prodded. Prompto bit his bottom lip, thinking. His gaze returned to the list, eyes scanning over the line that mentioned them.

“I don’t know. Maybe just thank them? For taking me in?” Prompto shrugged again, and Noctis’ eyes saddened as he rubbed his back a little more deeply. It was so very much like Prompto not to hold a grudge, to take everything in stride and not be angry, even though he was probably entitled to be.

“That’s all?”

“Well, yeah, I guess. Mostly, I’d just like to know that they’re okay, and for them to know that I’m okay, too.” Prompto caught the stare he was getting from Noctis, and he turned his head to meet those kind eyes.

“You are the strongest, most amazing person I know. You know that?” he asked. He lowered his head slightly, but his eyes remained locked with his partner’s. After a second or two of a blank stare, Prompto’s lips twitched into a smile, and he pressed his hand against Noct’s forehead.

“Have you got a fever? I think this is definitely delirium talking,” he teased, but Noctis’ mouth remained in a firm line.

“I’m serious, Prom. I don’t know anyone who could go through what you’ve gone through, and still be so kindhearted.” Prompto continued to stare at him in surprise a moment longer before his smile softened even further.

“Hate doesn’t make _anyone _feel better. Besides, I’ve got no reason to be bitter,” he shrugged before looping his arms around Noct’s neck, bringing their faces just inches apart.

“No reason to be bitter?” Noct repeated, not knowing how that could be true.

“I’ve got you,” Prompto replied simply, his smile curving into that adorably crooked one he’d always worn when he was truly happy, and it spread to Noctis’ face seconds later. If Noctis’ _presence _lessened the pain that this world had inflicted on Prompto, if his _love _was somehow Prompto’s miracle, then he would make sure Prompto never had to live without either one of those things.

“Yeah,” Noct breathed, contentedly, gazes never straying from the home they found in each other’s eyes. “You do.”

* * *

It was only a day later when Noctis thought of a way to address one of the items on Prompto’s bucket list. He had lost quite a few hours of sleep wondering what the best way to approach it was while Prompto slept peacefully at his side, but when it came to research, Iris was the obvious choice.

Everyone, especially Gladio, had been content back when she had decided she didn’t want a position that involved combat. Instead, she had requested a position gathering intel to protect the Crown in a way that didn’t involve her being on the front line. She had proven to herself long ago that she had the ability and strength to fight, but after what she’d seen over the years, she found herself preferring a distance from it, and Gladio had assured her that there was no shame in that. As Noctis made his way to her room now, he felt confident that she would be just as thorough in this investigation as any.

“Hey, Iris. Sorry to bother you on your day off,” he said, voice low and tired. He knocked softly on the door to her room, which was standing slightly ajar. She hurried over from her position on the couch to properly greet her king.

“That's totally okay. Is everything alright, Noct?” she asked, cautiously, finding his arrival here rather surprising. Noctis didn’t visit her often, and she knew that things had been a little tense around the Citadel since word of Prompto’s condition had circulated through the council. She didn’t expect she would be the one he would run to for comfort if he needed to break down, but she was more than willing to let him vent if he needed to.

At first she had feared she might always hold a grudge against her brother for keeping such a secret from her, but after learning that Prompto had kept Noct in the dark as well, she realized how selfish it was to be playing the victim, especially when she thought about how much more her longtime friend, poor Noctis, must be suffering. Feeling sorry for herself, being mad at Gladio... none of that would help Prompto, nor would it make Noct feel any better.

“I’m fine, but I’ve got a favour to ask you. Can I come in?”

“Of course, Noct,” she said, giving him a sad smile. She closed the door softly behind her as Noctis entered, and she motioned for him to take a seat on the couch. Quickly, she reached for the remote to flick off the romantic comedy she had been watching; that was probably the last thing Noctis wanted to see, under the circumstances.

Noctis seemed to take an extra few seconds to get situated, like he wasn’t quite sure which part of the couch cushion he should sit on, or where he should lay his hands. In all honesty, he was just buying himself time to collect his thoughts.

“So, I’ve been getting Prompto to write down some things he’d like to do… You know?” Noctis asked, hoping he wouldn’t have to elaborate to be understood. Iris sat down beside him, and nodded, looking serious, but trying to keep from appearing downright sad.

“And one of the things on his list was to try and locate his foster parents, or at least find out if they’re even still alive.” Iris nodded again, swallowing hard.

“And I was thinking about how you’ve done such a good job in your research duties. You know, with the Relicta and everything. So, I was wondering, would you want to take on the task of finding Prompto’s parents?” Noctis asked, rubbing his arm, feeling nervous. He didn’t want to fail Prompto on any of his wishes, but this one was of particular importance.  
  
Noctis knew Iris was the best person for the job, as she knew the ins and outs of the web and government databases better than anyone in the Citade. Still, he had this fear that she wouldn’t be able to find Mr. and Mrs. Argentum, and he absolutely didn’t want to let Prompto down. He knew he would be forgiven a hundred times over even if the investigation fell through, but still… He didn’t want Prompto to leave this world with any regrets.

“Of course. I would be honoured, Noct,” Iris promised him, with a small smile.

“Thank you. It means a lot,” Noctis said, pushing forth a smile in return, but it fell short, and he turned his head toward the blank TV screen ahead of him. After a minute, he felt a sorrowful gaze on him.

“Noct, you remember that time in Lestallum, when I was kind of hoping you and I were on a date?” she asked. Noctis could recall that day when she’d given him the tour of the city, and how smitten she’d been with him the entire time. He wasn’t sure where she was going with this now, but he nodded anyway.

“I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable. If I’d known what was going on with you and Prompto, I _never _would have— I mean, I love you guys, and I would never want to do anything to—”

“I know,” Noctis said, finding his smile, even though it was small. He turned to face Iris, whose eyes were so sad and apologetic. It was strange seeing her so much older.  
  
She was twenty-six now, and full of far more wisdom and compassion. Her voice was slightly deeper, and not quite as chipper as it had been in the old days. Her eyes told Noctis that she had seen things during the World of Ruin that had changed her, just like they had everyone else.

“You were only fifteen, right? Who could blame you for having a crush on an older guy? A prince, at that?” he teased, and Iris shoved his shoulder playfully. She appreciated him lightening the mood for her sake, especially when she could see how much he was hurting.

“My brother didn’t tell me about you two until after you came back from Accalia. Can you believe it? Anyway, I guess what I’m trying to say is I support you two, Noct. Prompto was so different after you were gone. He was so sad. I’m just glad you’re together again now,” she announced.

“Yeah, me, too. And I’m gonna do everything I can to make the best of what time we have.”

“If there’s anything else I can do, just say the word. I’ll get to work on locating his parents right away.”

“Thanks, Iris,” Noct smiled. “’Preciate it.”

* * *

Within a week and a half of Dolosus coming for his interview, he started his job at the Citadel. It was the beginning of the month, which meant a fresh start as far as bills, salaries, and other turnover events were involved. It had been a hectic few days. Preparing for Dolosus’ arrival had made Noctis so busy, he had insisted there was no time to celebrate his birthday two days earlier. Of course, this hadn’t stopped his friends from doing at least a little something. Ignis had sent him a card and a delivery of cupcakes. Gladio had decorated his study with balloons and confetti that fell from the ceiling the minute he had sat down in his chair.

Prompto, of course, had also not let this day slip by without mention. He’d given Noctis a nice, big box wrapped in gold paper. Inside was a black hoodie with a red assassin’s emblem on the front, which they both figured he would wear profusely in his downtime. Prompto had bought it way back during the Assassin’s Festival, and had been planning to save it for Noct’s next birthday, but his disappearance into the crystal had gotten in the way of that plan. The present may have been late, but Noctis loved it all the same.

Prompto had also thrown in a few extra things—a couple of Noctis’ favourite bars and candies, a carbuncle-shaped lamp for his study, and a couple of new lures for his fishing line. To top it all off, he’d sneaked down to the kitchen and convinced some poor staff member to help him make the perfect cake for Noctis.

It was a two-layer chocolate cake, with marshmallow icing in the middle and strawberries on top. Noctis had practically drooled when he saw it, and the two of them sat in his study all evening, picking away at the cake and candies while Noctis worked, and while Prompto did whatever he could to help. Perhaps that so-called ‘help’ was mostly Prompto crawling onto his lap, nuzzling his ear and kissing his neck, and perhaps it was more distracting than productive, but it was Noctis’ birthday, and he wasn’t going to complain.

Today’s mood was much less relaxed as Noctis gave Dolosus the tour of the Citadel, and the run-down of the day, while trying to avoid meeting up with Prompto or Gladio. He was still convinced that they would make things awkward when the poor guy was just getting acquainted with the place, and he wanted him to be able to focus on his tasks rather than the unnerving glaives that would be keeping a watchful eye on him.

They started their day in the dining hall, then proceeded to the audience hall for the day’s hearings. Contrary to Ignis’ suggestion, Noctis had chosen to keep the borders open, and he saw three different refugee families that morning who sought to make Lucis their home. Noctis had welcomed them, saying that as long as their security checks came back clear, they would be approved for Lucian citizenship.

That afternoon, Noctis was also asked to pass judgement on a man who had stolen from the local market. Upon hearing his pleas that he had only done so to feed his two-year-old daughter, and his story of how he had been without work since returning to Lucis due to the agricultural job shortage thus far, Noctis had given him a pardon. He knew that after today, looking further into the farming industry would become a top priority on their agenda.

Once Noct’s business was finished in the audience hall, he and Dolosus made their way through the corridors toward the study, where Noct would most likely spend the rest of his day looking over various inquiries, proposals, and contracts.

“How have I been doing so far?” Noctis asked, with a funny little smile, letting his advisor know it was okay to nitpick at the moment.

“Very well, Your Majesty. You were extremely gracious with those refugees, as well as that man to whom you gave the pardon. I’m sure your father would be proud,” Dolosus said, and Noctis rubbed the back of his head, averting his gaze.

“Thanks. I wasn’t looking for that kind of praise, but still… It’s nice to hear,” Noctis breathed. “So, I guess we know our first course of action here. Get some farming going here in Lucis. That would solve a lot of the cries for jobs, and would also create revenue for the kingdom, like you said before.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. If you’d like, we could go over some maps and try to determine a good location,” Dolosus agreed. His ice blue eyes darted to the side at the sight of movement, and he and Noctis looked over to see a blond glaive awkwardly heading for the main doors in the lobby, sidestepping along the wall as if to make himself invisible.

Prompto shrugged when Noctis caught his eye, and he gave a sheepish smile. He had been trying so hard not to get in Noctis’ and Dolosus’ path today, just as Noct had wished, but it seemed his plans hadn’t exactly worked out.

“Oh, h-hey,” Prompto greeted, timidly, and Dolosus quirked a brow at the lack of formality the glaive used to address his king. Noctis shrugged back. There was no point in pretending they hadn’t seen each other. Might as well make this less uncomfortable for everyone, and just get the introductions over with.

“Dolosus, this is Prompto, the man I was telling you about,” Noctis said, and Prompto’s eyes widened, not quite sure how much Noct had said about him. The advisor reached a hand out to shake Prompto’s, who forced himself to shake back without hesitation.

“So nice to finally meet you, Prompto. As I’m sure you know, His Majesty thinks very highly of you,” the man smiled, and Prompto tried not to blush. So, it seemed Noctis had told him a fair amount.

“Oh, well, you know. He’s not so bad himself,” Prompto joked, chuckling lightly, earning another small, almost confused frown from the new advisor. Prompto swallowed his laughter. He missed Ignis. At least Ignis was used to his jokes and general weirdness.

“Have, um… Have you and I met before?” Prompto asked, after a second, withdrawing his hand from Dolosus’. He could have sworn he recognized him from somewhere. Of course, after all the places he’d been and the people he’d met over the past ten years, it wasn’t unlikely.

Dolosus’ frown deepened, and he swallowed, looking thoughtful, as if trying to find some memory of Prompto from another time and place.

“Not that I remember,” he said, shaking his head.

“Eh, I could be wrong. I worked with a lot of people over the years,” Prompto smiled, innocently.

“Or perhaps you saw me in Altissia when I used to work for Claustra?” Dolosus offered, and Prompto snapped his fingers.

“You know, that was probably it!”

“Well, I’m glad to see you two getting along, but we really need to be going. Got lots of paperwork ahead of me,” Noctis sighed, wanting an out from this conversation before one of the three of them ended up saying something stupid—or worse, if Gladio showed up, too.

“Oh, yeah, that’s cool. I was just heading out for guard duty anyway. I’m on front gate this afternoon,” Prompto informed his king.

“Okay, then. Good luck. I’ll talk to you later?” Noctis asked, with a small duck of his head, his eyes asking Prompto if they were okay. Prompto smiled, letting Noct know that he understood; they could talk more openly later in private.

“Sounds good,” Prompto agreed. He reached out for the new advisor’s hand again. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“And you as well,” Dolosus smiled.

“Your Majesty,” Prompto remembered to bow, his hand over his heart. As he stood, he gave them one last smile before heading out the heavy front doors.

“He seems like a fine gentleman,” Dolosus said, giving Noctis a smile. Noct chuckled softly.

“He does better when he’s not so nervous. Anyway, let’s head to the study, shall we?”

“Lead the way, Your Majesty,” Dolosus agreed, with a wave of his arm.

* * *

“Ugh,” Noctis huffed, leaning his back against the bedroom door to close it, and reaching a hand over to flip the lock, fully intending to block the rest of the world out for the remainder of the evening.  
  
“What a long day,” he lamented. Prompto stood at the end of the bed, where he was neatly folding a pile of towels.

“How did it go with the new guy?” he asked, glancing up at his partner, who was reaching down to pull off his dress shoes. Twelve hours in those things were more than enough to make his feet ache.

“It was fine. It’s kind of weird getting used to someone else, and having him watch over my every move, but he seems nice enough,” Noctis said, strolling over to the bed and collapsing on his back. He let out a peaceful sigh, and his tight muscles started to relax as they sunk in against the warmth of the mattress.

“You know we have attendants to do that for us?” he reminded Prompto, who looked at him in question before returning his gaze to the towels with a smile.

“I know, but any way I can feel useful these days…”

“Hey,” Noctis frowned, worriedly, and the tone of his voice caught Prompto’s attention. Violet eyes flickered toward him, timidly. “Why are you feeling like you’re not useful?”

“I don’t know. You’ve just been really busy lately, and I wish there was more I could do to help you. Like the paperwork, or… I don’t know, _something_,” he shrugged, averting his eyes as soon as he’d finished speaking. He drew his attention back to the last of the royal blue towels, and folded them before taking the stack into the bathroom. He leaned down and placed them in the cupboard.

“I know I’ve been busy, and I know we haven’t been spending a ton of time together. I’m sorry. It’s not by choice,” Noctis said.

“Don’t worry, Noct. You don’t have to explain. I know what kind of pressure you’re under. I just sort of wish I was more involved, you know?” Prompto asked, returning to the bedroom and instantly looking around for something else with which he could busy himself. His pathetic excuse became the curtains, and he hurried over to them to try to fluff out the wrinkles.

“Maybe you _should_ _be_,” Noctis said, staring up at the ceiling in thought.

“What?”

“Maybe you _should_ be more involved. I mean, as my partner, it’s possible you might need to step up to the plate sometimes. There’s no reason why you couldn’t be sitting in with me in the audience chamber, or helping me make decisions on the paperwork.”

“Really?” Prompto asked slowly as he looked back toward the bed, his forehead crinkled with uncertainty.

“I can always ask Dolosus what he thinks, but I don’t see why not. It’s probably a _good_ idea for you to know what’s going on around here. I want you to play a part in rebuilding our home,” Noctis said. He propped himself up on his elbows so he was better able to see the man across the room.  
  
“And as for feeling useful, you’ve always been there for whatever I needed, okay?” Noctis patted the mattress softly, hoping Prompto would take the invitation and come join him.  
  
Prompto let his hands fall from the curtains, and he travelled towards the bed. Lifting a knee up, he crawled over to lie on his side next to Noctis, his head nestling in against his shoulder. His hand fell upon Noctis’ chest as Noct’s arm wove around his waist, holding him close against him. After a few silent minutes, Prompto looked up to see that Noctis’ eyes had drifted closed. He rubbed his hand over the front of Noct’s suit jacket, hoping it might make him stir.

“You’re gonna fall asleep with your suit on. Do you want me to help you?” Prompto asked.

“I’m_ barely _asleep,” Noctis smirked, but he sounded groggy. “Help all you want, though.”

Prompto shifted his weight onto his elbow, and with the hand that was already on Noctis’ chest, he undid the buttons of his jacket before proceeding to unbutton his red dress shirt underneath. He pushed the fabric to the sides, exposing Noctis’ bare chest to the warmth of the room. He leaned over to press a kiss above his heart before he pulled back to look at the skin several inches below. His hand slipped down to trace over the thin line of scar tissue that ran from the bottom of his rib-cage almost all the way down to his navel.

“How are you healing up?” Prompto asked, quietly.  
  
To be honest, he hadn’t seen much of the progress after Noctis had been injured in Accalia. He’d seen the cut a few days after they had both returned to the Citadel, when Noctis had needed to change the bandages. Other than that, he and Noctis had been on such different schedules, they hadn’t been seeing so much of each other—at least not _inside _the bedroom. Even when they came back to the king’s chambers at night, one of them was usually asleep before the other.

“It’s still a little tender, but better than it was,” Noct replied, eyes still closed.

“Tender on the inside or outside?”

“Both.”

Prompto glanced at Noctis’ nightstand, where medical supplies were still scattered across its surface from tending to the wound so often. He reached over for a potion bottle and undid the cap, pouring a little of the blue-green liquid onto his fingers before lowering them to Noctis’ skin. Noct gave a hiss at the potion’s cool temperature, but his tense muscles relaxed a little as Prompto continued to run his fingers over the raised flesh.

“Hard to believe it’s only been a few weeks since you were hurt,” he hummed, watching Noctis’ expression carefully as he traced over the scar. Noctis’ eyes were pressed closed, the faintest twitches appearing between his brows, indicating a mix of pain and pleasure.

“Is this okay?” Prompto asked, just to be sure.

“Yeah. Feels good,” Noct breathed, focusing in on that soothing touch, and on the potion as it dulled the lingering pain in his abdomen. It seemed to mend the skin just a little bit more.

Noctis soon felt Prompto shifting his weight, and the next thing he felt was Prompto’s lips on his stomach, grazing lightly over the scar. He smiled softly at the gentleness of his actions, and brushed a hand over Prompto’s hair before letting it settle on the back of his neck.

“Is this you returning the favour for kissing _your _scars?” Noct sleepily slurred.

“Nope. This is just _me _showing _you_ that I love you,” Prompto smiled, continuing his work. One of his hands stayed on the bed to support him, while the other ran along Noctis’ side, thumb brushing over his waist and stomach.

“I don’t know if this was your intention, but this isn’t exactly helping to put me to sleep.”

“Oh yeah? What’s it doing?” Prompto smirked.

“Turning me on,” Noctis mumbled.

“I can work with that.”

Noct’s hand was on Prompto’s in a second, holding it in place at his waist, keeping it from wandering elsewhere. Prompto looked up, sensing the tension that had just shot through Noctis’ body.

“Not tonight, okay?” Noct murmured. “I just... really need the rest.”  
  
Prompto walked his hands backwards until he was kneeling upright. He felt himself reddening as he turned his gaze toward the floor beside him. He couldn’t remember the last time Noctis had rejected his advances—if ever. He knew Noctis was tired, and maybe he _was_ still too sore, but there was another part of Prompto that feared those weren’t the reasons for the rejection, and it hurt to think about. It hurt to think that Noct of all people might turn away from him at a time like this.

“I’m sorry if I—” Prompto started, rubbing his arm in shame, but even as he searched for a way to end that sentence, he couldn’t find one.

“Don’t be,” Noct answered anyway, trying to assure him that everything was alright, but Prompto couldn’t be fooled.

“Noct, don’t you think things have been a little... _dry_ between us lately? Like, since before we left for Accalia?”

“Well,” Noctis sighed, pushing himself to sit up. “I haven’t been feeling all that sexy lately, to be honest.” He brushed a hand over his stomach where the scar remained. Was Noct really ashamed of that tiny line? After the giant claw marks that Prompto had shown him?

“Or is this really about _me_, because now you know there’s something wrong with me? I mean, you’re not going to ‘catch’ my faulty genes,” he said, sharply.

“Hey, calm down, Prompto. It’s not like that,” Noctis defended himself, hands popping up in surrender.

“But it _is_ about me?”

“I-I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to! You’re scared of me!” Prompto could feel his world spinning as the truth hit him hard.

“I’m scared of what might _happen_ to you!” Noctis corrected, eyes slanted in desperation, his hands reaching out to grip Prompto’s.

“What does that mean?!”

“It means... that I don’t know enough about your condition yet. I don’t want to do anything that might make you worse off.”

“Noct...” Prompto practically whispered, the anger falling aside and disbelief taking over instead. It was touching that the man would think of such a thing, but those kinds of worries weren’t necessary, at least not in Prompto’s mind. He still felt perfectly fine—no different from the day, or even the decade, before.  
  
“You’re _not _making me any worse off, okay?”

Noctis still appeared concerned and unconvinced, and Prompto brought his hands to his lips, kissing the backs of them individually.

“It’s sweet of you to be so considerate, but if that’s what’s stopping you, there’s no need. Come on, let’s just...” Prompto leaned in to capture Noctis’ lips, but Noct was up from the bed in a second, pulling free of Prompto’s grasp. Prompto fell forward, landing on his elbows hard enough to make the mattress bounce. He slowly turned his head to peer up at Noctis, who was the one looking timid now.

“If we can prevent any strain on your body, we probably should,” Noctis said, his voice so meek and apologetic. Prompto continued to stare at him, looking like a wounded puppy. It made Noctis’ heart ache so badly, he couldn’t let his gaze linger.

“I’m gonna go get ready for bed,” Noctis went on, his tone unchanged from the last words he’d spoken. He headed for the bathroom, reaching for his toothbrush and squeezing a bit of paste onto it from the nearby tube. Prompto continued to lie there on his elbows, trying to absorb everything that had just been said.

“So… what? We’re just… _not _gonna have sex for the next _ten years_?” Prompto asked, a mix of incredulity and irritation in his voice.

“I’m not saying that,” Noct shook his head, looking defeated. “I just want to wait until I know more, okay? I don’t know what we should or shouldn’t be doing to keep you healthy, and I just…” Noctis sighed, blinking back tears that had suddenly found their way to his eyes. “I want to keep you for as long as I can.”

With that, he shoved his toothbrush into his mouth, and began brushing loudly, trying to distract himself before he could really start crying.

Prompto, feeling like a bit of a heel after that, silently went to his dresser and pulled out a white t-shirt and a pair of sleep pants. He changed into them and crawled into bed, lying on his side away from Noctis, unable to look at him at the moment. There were too many emotions running through his brain, and he wasn’t sure which one might pop out and start attacking. He didn’t want to fight anymore. He didn’t want to do anything except sleep.

Noctis returned to the bedroom after a few minutes, having finished his nighttime routine. He slipped into bed and stared over at Prompto, who was curled in on himself and absolutely not daring a glance in his direction. Noctis turned off the bedside lamp before settling down beneath the covers.

“Will you just lie with me?” Noctis murmured. He hoped that Prompto might let bygones be bygones, that he would roll over and snuggle in against him. To his dismay, Prompto said nothing. He knew he was still awake from the sound of his breathing, and the way he’d appeared to be staring at the wall ahead a mere minute ago.  
  
Noctis wasn’t about to let him go to bed angry. He’d always had this fear that one day he would wake up, and someone he loved would be gone, and he didn’t want to have regrets. With the knowledge that Prompto’s time was running out, those fears had multiplied, and Noctis would be damned if he didn’t do everything he could to make sure Prompto knew he was loved, whether or not he wanted the affection.

“That’s fine. _I’ll_ just lie with _you_, then,” Noctis said, very matter-of-fact. He reached for his pillow and tugged it over to rest right up against Prompto’s. He scooted in close, one arm weaving over Prompto’s waist, and the other easing under his neck. His chest was pressed against Prompto’s back, and his lips brushed over a lightly freckled shoulder before gracing it with a soft kiss.

“Goodnight, my love,” he spoke into the darkness, before allowing his head to fall softly back down onto the pillow. Once he had slipped into unconsciousness, Prompto closed his eyes tightly, and let his body tremble as he quietly cried himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the amazing feedback lately!! I was shocked to see so many responses to this story in my inbox, and it sincerely brightened my day so much :) I appreciate hearing from you all, and am so pleased to receive so many kind words. I do put my heart and soul into every line, scene, and chapter (I spend at least 10 hours a week just editing this story), so it is amazing to be recognized for the hard work I have put into making this story what it is. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for all your support!! Kudos to all of you, readers <3


	17. Thirty-Two

It took about a month for Noct and Dolosus’ new plans to get underway, but Noct was pleased with the progress they had made in a short time. They picked out some potential locations for building a new agricultural centre and farming district, and were in the process of discussing the pros and cons of each so they could make a final decision. There were still a couple of issues Noctis hoped they could tackle soon—the first being the recruitment of new glaives, the second being Prompto. He wanted Prompto to start sitting in with him on meetings that took place in the audience hall, and Dolosus saw no reason not to allow it, but Prompto himself wasn’t making it easy.

Prompto had been standoffish since the night Noct had turned down his offer to be intimate. He’d decided to pick up the slack for the handful of glaives that had abandoned, which meant covering their posts and taking extra shifts. The result was more time where he was busy, and less time where he had to interact with Noctis. Their last real conversation had been painful, and Prompto certainly wasn’t keen on having _that _awkward topic arise again.

Of course, Noctis wasn’t keen on it either, but he still continued to do what he could to try and make Prompto come around—telling him he loved him, kissing him on the cheek whenever they crossed paths. He knew Prompto was hurt, knew that he had accidentally made him feel like he was toxic, but he hoped he would come to accept what he’d told him that night: that he was trying to protect him, and that he wanted to keep him in good health for as long as possible.

Noctis had thought hard about ways to make amends, knowing he didn’t _need_ to make some grand effort to apologize and prove his love, but still _want__ing_ to. It finally occurred to him that Prompto’s birthday would be coming up very soon, so he got to work calling in a few favours. He was confident that he would be able to give Prompto a good birthday, one that he would remember fondly for years. But sadly, he couldn’t devote _all _of his time to party planning, despite wanting to make it his top priority. On this particular morning, he found himself yet again in the confines of his study.

“Your Majesty, could we have a moment of your time?” came a knock on the door.

Noctis looked up from his desk to see Cor and Iris standing in the entryway, and he gave them a smile, waving them inside.

“Of course. What’s going on?” He motioned to the empty seats in front of his desk, and the two sat down, giving him nods of gratitude.

“We finished the signs you wanted. For recruiting new glaives?” Iris spoke up.

“Oh, right. That was fast,” he marvelled. “Is that them?” He stared at the papers that Iris held tightly against her chest.

“Oh, no, just something else I was working on. But, the posters? Cor and Dolosus told me the information to include, and I designed them. Do you want us to put ‘em around town?” Iris asked.

“Yeah. I mean… as long as you don’t see anything wrong with them, Cor.”  
  
The Marshall frowned, detecting the uncertainty in Noctis’ voice; he was evidently terrified of making a mistake.

“I believe they’re fine, Your Majesty, as long as you believe you have the funds to support more glaives. Housing is easy. We certainly have the room, but food might be more of an issue.”

“I talked to Dustin, who’s taking care of the finances, and he worked it into our budget. Said we should be okay for at least six months,” Noctis explained.

“And what about after that?” Cor asked, sitting forward in his chair, hands resting on his knees.

“Well,” Noctis sighed. “I’m just hoping we’re able to access my father’s funds by then. If not, then we’ll have to hope that the other efforts we’re making to create revenue for Lucis are enough to sustain us.”

“Very well, Your Majesty.”

Noctis flopped back in his chair, letting out another heavy breath. His expression saddened, his unfocused gaze falling to rest on his desk. His fingers curled around the armrests of his chair, tightly and uncomfortably.

“It’s stressful, you know? Rebuilding not only Lucis, but our connections to all of Eos. Do you… both feel like things are going okay?” Noct asked.

“While I wouldn’t say Lucis is in a stable position right now, I’ve seen firsthand your efforts to get things under control. Continue on like you are, and I believe our situation will improve,” Cor replied, reassuring him with a small smile.

“Yeah, what he said, Noct. Things could always be better, but they started off a lot worse, too. The changes you and Dolosus have been working on make sense,” Iris promised, and Noct nodded, relieved.

“Thank you. I think I needed to hear that.”

”If you’ll excuse us, then, Your Majesty?” Cor asked, getting up from his seat.

“Yeah, of course. Thank you, Cor, Iris.”

Iris and Cor stared at Noct, waiting curiously for him to continue.

“If you start to notice I’m doing something wrong, just tell me, okay? I_ really_ _don’t _want to mess this kingdom up,” Noctis said, a small smile twisting up his lips, but his eyes were unmistakably sad.

Cor nodded, knowing how hard Noctis was trying to live up to his generous and powerful father, while still attempting to adapt the things that needed to change for his own unique ways of ruling. It was difficult, trying to rule as kindly as King Regis did while not losing people’s trust the way he had during the war. It was hard to create new pockets of wealth when old ones had been destroyed. It was hard to be the hero who had brought back the sunlight when so many people hated him, King Noctis, who had disappeared when the world had needed him the most.

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Cor bowed. He got to his feet and glanced back at Iris, who had risen from her chair, but didn’t appear to be following him.

“Um, could I have a word with you myself, Your Majesty?” she asked, showing him the proper respect while in the Marshal’s presence.

“Of course,” Noct agreed, waving toward the chair again. Cor gave a nod to dismiss himself, and closed the door behind him, giving the two some privacy.

“Sorry to keep you from your work, Noct,” Iris said, looking very apologetic.

”Trust me, I don’t mind a break in the silence,” Noctis laughed, and while he’d intended for it to come out warm and cheerful, it was instead filled with a longing that Noct himself recognized instantly. Of course, the silence was bothering him. He was _lonely_. How long had it been since Prompto had wandered into his study? The fact that he had no idea meant it was far _too _long.

“So, what’s up?” Noctis quizzed.

“Well, this is about that _other_ task you gave me. Prompto’s parents? I actually found them.”

“Are you serious?” Noctis gaped. “They’re alive?”

“Yeah,” Iris said, a little breathlessly. She took Noctis’ enthusiasm as an invitation to elaborate, and she finally set down the papers she’d had clutched against her body. She lowered them to the desk, allowing the king to view her research.

“Apparently, they were not in Insomnia during the fall, which explains how they survived. They were on a business trip outside the city,” the girl explained.  
  
It made sense, Noctis supposed. Right before the roadtrip, he remembered Ignis telling him that Prompto had gone home to show off his Crownsguard fatigues, only to find the house empty. Noctis had sworn to Ignis that he wouldn’t tell Prompto that he knew—knew that Prompto’s parents had let him down again. That didn’t stop Noctis from feeling horrible about it, though.

He’d always wished he could do something to fix it, that he could step in and yell at those horrid creatures for abandoning the child they had promised to care for and protect. Noctis had always been cautious whenever the topic of Prompto’s parents came up, because he knew how much of a sore spot it was that they never took an interest in him—a sore spot that had probably grown ten times that day, that day that probably should have been the proudest of Prompto’s life.

“Where are they now? Did you find out?” Noctis queried, energetically. Iris nodded, and flipped to the second page of her findings.

“According to this government database, they moved to Gralea after the fall, relocated to Lestallum sometime during the decade of darkness, and returned to Gralea again afterwards.”

“Do you know exactly where they are?”

“Yep. Here’s the address,” Iris announced, turning back to the first page of her report and pointing to the line on the paper, underneath Mr. and Mrs. Argentum’s ID photographs. Noctis took the paper into his hands and stared down at it, feeling elated, disbelieving, and scared all at the same time.

“Are you going to tell Prompto?” Iris asked, quietly, after Noctis was silent for a little too long. She had sensed the moment his excitement turned to unease.

“Mm, not yet. His birthday is coming up soon, and I want him to at least enjoy it before he starts worrying about seeing them again.”

“I can understand that.”

“But this _is _what he wanted. I don’t know how he can forgive them for everything they put him through, but… I guess that’s Prompto for you,” Noct sighed, with a small smile.

“He_ is_ awfully strong, Noct. I can sort of see why you two leaned on each other all those years,” she said, and it made Noctis lift a brow.

“Yeah?” he quizzed, hoping she would elaborate.

“Well, I think you both have strength in different places. Both different, but they work together. Kind of like your personalities,” she smiled. Noctis nodded, knowing what she meant, and appreciating that someone on the outside could see such things, too—Prompto with his wide grins and glowing nature, Noctis with his more reserved smiles and soft-spoken words.

“Thanks, Iris. I’m really glad you get it. Maybe you could talk to Ignis about all this? Change his mind about us?” Noct smirked.  
  
He had meant it jokingly, but part of him wasn’t kidding at all, even though her words of persuasion wouldn’t change anything. It wasn’t their compatibility that they needed to convince Ignis of anyway; it was that being with Prompto wouldn’t tarnish his reputation.

“I’m sure Ignis’ll come around,” Iris laughed, softly. “I know it isn’t easy for the two of you to be stuck in the middle of all this political stuff, but… it’ll all work out, Noct. Promise.”  
  
“I hope so,” Noct said, pushing forth a smile.

* * *

It was a long, boring morning—so boring Noctis’ eyes crossed and blurred as he stared at the documents before him, and even Umbra had fallen asleep, curled up on the rug in Noct’s study. There was only so much work Noct could do without proper sustenance, so once he could no longer ignore his growling stomach, he hopped up from his desk and patted his hand against his leg, awakening the messenger.

“C’mon, Umbra. Let’s get us some grub,” Noct grinned. The dog was up on all fours in a second, and followed his king with perked ears and a wagging tail.  
  
As they made their way through the halls, Noctis heard the familiar clink of a cane against the tiled floor. He paused, thinking he must have misheard, but he turned the corner to see Ignis proceeding through the lobby, tapping his cane out in front of him as he tried to locate the main doors.

“Hey. What are you doing here?” Noctis asked, softly, not wanting to sound hostile. Instead, his words came out apologetic and sad. Ignis halted and turned, listening, but Noct didn’t take another step; he kept a few feet’s distance between them.

“I apologize. I was only here for a brief meeting with Gladio.”

“Anything I should know about?”

“No. It was merely old friends catching up,” Ignis assured him. Finally, Noctis stepped forward, feeling confident that his former advisor wasn’t about to bite his head off.

“Thanks for the stuff you sent on my birthday. Cupcakes were delicious,” Noct said, with a mild grin, as Umbra sat proudly down at his side, panting.

“I’m glad they were satisfactory,” Ignis smiled back, gently.

“They were _more _than satisfactory. So, uh, how are things? Where’ve you been staying?”

“My uncle has an apartment in town, so I’ve been staying with him. He’s getting on in years, so I’m happy to be able to spend the time with him,” Ignis explained.  
  
Noctis replied with a small noise of understanding, wishing Ignis would recognize the similarities of their situations; they were both trying to make the most of the time they had with their loved ones.  
  
“How is the new fellow working out?” Ignis inquired. Noctis regretted having to answer the question, but convinced himself it might put Ignis’ mind at ease to know that things were under control.

“Pretty well, actually. He’s on a trial run for a few months, but so far so good.”

“What will you do once that period is over?”

Noctis stared at Ignis’ expression, the way his brows were curved upward the slightest bit, in what was either trepidation or concern—perhaps both.

“I guess that depends. Have you changed your mind about Prompto?” Noct asked, folding his arms to protect himself from the harsh truth that was sure to hurt him.

“I’m… afraid not. My concerns are still painfully valid, in my mind,” Ignis said, solemnly, turning his head slightly away from Noctis in regret. Umbra gave a low whine in response. Noctis’ teeth dug into his bottom lip as he tried to get over the sting of those words, but even that physical pain couldn’t distract him from it completely.

“Then I guess things will stay the way they are,” Noctis sighed, but after a second or two, he confidently brought his gaze up to stare at Ignis’ shameful expression. “I would prefer to have you as my advisor. You know that, right?”  
  
The curve of Ignis’ brows softened at the sound of those words, like he hadn’t been expecting to hear them, or wasn’t sure whether to believe them.

“Thank you, Noct,” he uttered, gratefully.

“I mean it. I want you and Gladio at my side, always, but I have to put Prompto first right now. He’s going through something huge, and I’m not going to let him suffer through it alone,” Noctis asserted.

“I understand,” Ignis nodded. Noctis fell silent after that, but even without his sight, Ignis could sense the hesitation in the air. There was more his king wanted to say.

“Look, I’ve been wanting to ask you... do you remember when Prompto first came back to the Citadel, and you said I should talk to him? You said that he’d been through more than I could imagine?”  
  
“I do.”

“Then you must have at least considered that once I learned the truth, the distance between Prompto and I might disappear.”  
  
“Yes, I had, but I can’t say it crossed my mind that your relationship would ever reach a level where all of Eos would know of your rapport,” Ignis admitted. Noctis nodded, taking in the information and letting it sink in. He wondered why it had to matter so much.

“Maybe if my dad were still here, and I was still just a prince, we could have kept our relationship a secret, but as a king, I can’t lie to my kingdom. I want to earn my people’s trust by simply being myself. And besides, Prompto and I... We’ve had to hide our relationship since the day it started,” Noct explained, giving Ignis a small, defeated shrug that he hoped he could somehow perceive. He thought back to the media’s rumours about him and Prompto, to the way they were forbidden from attending their prom as dates, or from holding hands in public during their days on the road.  
  
“We’re tired of hiding, Specs,” Noct said simply, pushing forth a weak smile. He hoped the old nickname might soften Ignis’ heart.  
  
“Yes, I... I can understand that must have been difficult,” Ignis sighed, considering.

Even back in their high school days, those boys had never been free. Every outing had come with a strict set of rules, every act of romantic affection had to take place behind closed doors, every text had to be hidden from prying eyes. And when they had so much as _risked _crossing those lines, Ignis had been ready with a scolding in response.

Despite Ignis not understanding what it must have felt like to sneak around, fly under the radar, and hide from the world, he _did _understand that those conditions had damaged Noct, had made him feel hurt and ashamed. They had probably done the same thing to Prompto. And that... that was truly unfair to both of them.

“I believe in the people of Lucis and Niflheim. _A__ll_ of Eos. I believe they have the kindness within their hearts to respect our reign together, if we decide to take that step. I want to give them the _chance_ to accept us, just as I told Prompto. I’d love it if _you _would take that chance, too.”  
  
Noctis stopped after that, giving a soft chuckle as he realized how long he’d been talking. He shoved a hand through his hair, embarrassed and defeated.

“Sorry. I know none of this is likely to change your mind. I just wanted to say it out loud, you know? Anyway,” Noct said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and shifting uncomfortably. “Prompto’s birthday is coming up, and I’m planning a surprise party for him. You’ll come, right?” Noctis asked, his brows popping up in question, afraid Ignis would say no right off the bat, or make up some excuse as to why he couldn’t attend.

In reality, Ignis was touched to be invited. He had feared that Prompto might have taken his leave of absence as an insult against him. He had even feared that Noctis might still be downright angry with him for doing and saying what he did. Contrary to his assumptions, it appeared that once the initial hurt and rage had died down, the feelings of comradery that he and Noctis had always shared were more important than any grudge.

“If you’ll have me, then of course. I would not want to miss such an important occasion in my friend’s life,” Ignis said, feeling the need to phrase it that way. He turned his head toward Noctis, trying his best to guage where he was standing. “Noct, please know that I hold no ill feelings toward Prompto, nor yourself. I merely brought up my concerns out of my love and duty for the Crown.”

“I know,” Noctis promised, giving him a smile that he hoped he would hear in his voice. “I get it. Even _I_ worry sometimes that I’ll let my dad or my kingdom down with my choices, but… I have to learn to trust my own judgement. No king can rule properly if he doesn’t believe in what he’s doing. So for now, I just have to follow through with the choices I’ve made.”

To his surprise, Ignis offered him a tender smile in response. He actually appeared proud.

“That’s very admirable, Noct. I sincerely hope that everything works out.”

“Me, too,” Noctis agreed, and Ignis gave him one last smile before heading for the door again. “Hey, I’ll be in touch about the party.”

“Looking forward to it,” Ignis peacefully hummed. His mouth popped open in surprise when he felt a cold, wet nose against his hand. He let out a soft hum of laughter immediately after as Umbra lapped his tongue affectionately against his skin.

“Looks like someone misses you,” Noct smiled. Ignis felt around for the top of the dog’s head, and ruffled the fur between his ears. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it than that.

* * *

As the weeks continued to pass, Noctis felt more and more confident that he was making good strides in Lucis. In late October, he and Dolosus visited an area a little ways outside Insomnia to view one of the potential lots for the farming district. Being pleased with its acreage, Noct decided to go ahead and make this the official spot. A small and somewhat informal groundbreaking ceremony was held a few days later, where Noctis shoveled the first bit of soil and planted the first vegetable seed of many to sprout from this new lot.

Noctis was relieved by the change this would bring about in his kingdom—construction workers could build barns and greenhouses, farmers could have their jobs back. Everyone could work together and create new friendships. Because the lot was so enormous, they could sell some of their goods locally while still having plenty for Noctis’ workers to export to other places, bringing money back into the kingdom.

Despite how proud he was of his latest efforts, a part of him still felt defeated. It was Prompto’s birthday, and with it came Noct’s responsibility to tell him about his parents. He hoped it would be seen as another gift, something that would fill him with gratitude rather than dread, but he wasn’t sure how he would react, especially when they had been so at odds lately.  
  
He knew Prompto_ wanted _to see his parents, but recognized that he felt uneasy about it, too. He wondered how much Prompto would tell them—whether he would let them in on the secret of his condition, or whether they would be left to find out after the fact that he’d passed away.

Noctis shivered at the thought and shook his head, trying to rid himself of it. His elbow rested against the window of the car door, his hand coming to pinch the bridge of his nose. He cleared his throat and closed his eyes tightly, doing anything he could to stop himself from sinking into despair.

“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” Dolosus asked, leaning forward slightly in his seat, trying to assess Noctis’ pained expression. “Is this about the groundbreaking ceremony? Because you did a wonderful job.”

“No, it’s not that,” Noctis said, releasing a small breath of laughter. He could see how his silence during the whole drive home from the ceremony could have given off that impression.

“I’m okay, it’s just…” He hesitated before he let himself go any further. He’d often debated telling Dolosus of Prompto’s condition, as it seemed word of it had never reached his ears; he had certainly never mentioned it. But maybe it was best not to go down that road right now.

“What is it?” Dolosus prodded, worriedly. Noctis opened his eyes and reached for the button on his car door, which triggered the partition to rise between the front and back seats. It gave them some privacy to talk without the driver listening in.

“Just some personal matters with Prompto. I recently discovered that his foster parents are still alive, and are living in Gralea. Prior to this, Prompto wasn’t even sure they’d survived the fall of Insomnia,” Noctis explained.

“Oh, my dear. His parents didn’t have contact with him in all that time?”

“Let’s just say, Prompto didn’t have the best upbringing. It wasn’t an ideal parent-child relationship.”

“How unfortunate,” Dolosus breathed, sitting back in his seat, drinking in the story with a troubled expression, fingers curled tightly around his knees.

“And yet, Prompto, being the kind of guy he is, still wants to go visit them. Said he wants to thank them for taking him in, despite all the shit they put him through,” Noct said, tasting the loathing on his own tongue for those people, and yet, felt a little guilty about it. If Prompto was willing to forgive them, then he should be, too, but it was hard. They had hurt Prompto, and Noct had a hard time forgiving _anyone _who dared to cross that line.

“And is he? Going to visit, I mean?” Dolosus asked.

“Well, I haven’t actually told him about this yet. But no, not alone. I would go with him,” Noct said, meeting his advisor’s eyes. “Sadly, it probably won’t happen anytime soon. Not with the financial state of things at the Citadel.”

“Surely we’ll recover from this financial struggle before too long, and you’ll be able to go,” Dolosus said. He tried to analyze the look that appeared in the king’s eyes. What was it? Fear? Longing?

“I was really hoping we could go sooner rather than later. I don’t know what kind of health his parents are in, or anything,” Noct replied, biting his lip. It wasn’t a complete lie, even if he doubted they were in the same dismal position as Prompto.

“Don’t worry, Your Majesty,” Dolosus encouraged, with a gentle smile. “I have a good feeling that this farming district will improve things for you and Lucis. As soon as the funds are available, we’ll make sure you and Mr. Argentum get to Gralea.”

“We... might be gone for some time. Do you think the council will approve?”

“Let me handle the council. We must simply make them see the situation as being beneficial to your well-being. If Prompto is worried about his parents, you will inevitably worry about Prompto, and therefore it’s in both of your interests to make the voyage,” Dolosus said, in a manner-of-fact sort of way. Noctis hummed pensively.

“You must have been quite the asset while in government, huh? You seem to know how to negotiate and spin any story the way you want it.”

Dolosus chuckled, pressing a knuckle against his lips.

“You make me sound cheeky, Your Majesty.”

“No. I know you’re just trying to help, and I appreciate it,” Noctis smiled, sincerely. “Hey, I’m having a birthday party for Prompto later. You’re welcome to come.”

“I’m grateful for the offer, Your Majesty, but I’m not much for parties. I’m sure you’ll have a better time without my stiff personality.”  
  
Noctis laughed gently.

“Well, the offer’s there, if you change your mind.”

He perked up a little as they arrived at the Citadel gates, and was relieved when the driver finally parked the car in front of the main doors, for it meant he was home—and one step closer to Prompto. He parted ways with Dolosus and headed for his chambers. He was glad that he could finally put an end to this distance—an end to that horrible feeling of trying to make amends while Prompto brushed him off.

In some ways, it had made things easier to have a distance between them while Noctis worked out the details of the upcoming birthday party. If they had been spending more time together, Prompto would have become suspicious of all the private phone calls, and Noctis would have felt obligated to spill the beans. Noctis vowed tonight would be different, however. He vowed that by the end of this conversation, they would no longer be at odds, and as he made his way toward the bedroom, swore to make it so.

Inside the bedroom, Prompto was making use of the time to himself—his camera set up on the desk before him as he talked directly to it, documenting his tale the best way he knew how.

“So, yes, I was made to be an MT, but in the end, I’m only human.” He paused when he heard shuffling outside the door, and he reached for the camera, shutting it off quickly and shoving it into the desk drawer. His eyes searched for something, _anything _to act as a reasonable decoy. When they lay themselves upon one of Noctis’ old fantasy books, he withdrew it and flipped it open to a random page as the door opened.

“Hey,” Noctis greeted.

“Hey. Didn’t expect you to be back so soon,” Prompto said, with nary a smile, somehow managing to _not _act suspicious. At least his words were truthful; it had been a while since their schedules had actually aligned.  
  
“Finished work early.”

Prompto closed his book casually, as if he’d been reading it the entire time, and headed for the dresser to dig some sleepwear out of his drawer. Noctis took a seat on the edge of the bed, hands resting patiently on his knees.

“Look, I know you’re still mad at me for the last time we were alone like this, that night when you tried to—” Prompto’s gaze shot up immediately, expression startled. The surprise only lasted a second, before Prompto lowered his head, shoulders curling inward. He looked so withdrawn, like the last thing he wanted was for Noctis to talk about that painful incident.  
  
“And I get it. I never meant to make you feel like… like I was repulsed by you, or like I didn’t want you because you were sick, or…”

“Great talk,” Prompto breathed, in a bitter laugh. He sauntered into the bathroom, the conversation already making him feel worse than before. Noctis followed him, and put a hand out to stop the door from being closed in his face. Prompto strode toward the mirror, hands falling hard against the edges of the sink, head low as he viewed his own heartbroken expression reflecting back at him.

“Prompto, listen. I love you, okay? And the only reason I stopped you from going any further that night was because I was scared of hurting you. I just... I _never _want to be something that makes you worse-off,” Noctis said, his eyes full of emotion, voice low and calm.  
  
Prompto’s gaze darted from the mirror in front of him to glance at Noct in the corner of his eye; it stayed there a moment, then drifted back to the mirror. Prompto pulled open the medicine cupboard and reached for his moisturizer, squeezing some of it out of the bottle before slapping it onto his face, making sure to rub a little extra under his eyes.

“I’ve always wanted to protect you, and I know you were eager to join the Crownsguard because you wanted to protect me, too. It’s just something that’s ingrained in us, I think. So please, don’t be mad at me for wanting to keep you safe,” Noct went on, and Prompto turned to give him another glance.  
  
“But if we’re not close like we were, then what’s the point?”  
  
“The point is, we keep you here as long as we can, Prompto. And maybe it won’t be the same, but... we can still be close in other ways.” The words were meant to bring comfort, but they appeared to only make Prompto sadder as his gaze drifted down to the sink before him.

“I don’t want to act like some depraved jerk about this, it’s just that I... I _miss _being close to you, Noct,” Prompto whispered now, that weak and solemn sound summoning Noctis to him like a magnet. Noct was behind him in an instant, hands reaching out for his shoulders and massaging them gently.

“I know, and I feel the same. But like I said before, once we know more about your condition, maybe we _can_ _be _close like that again.”

“So, all those times when you’d stop me in the hallway...” Prompto trailed off, remembering those brief and tender kisses Noct had given him in between their meetings and guard duties. “That was your way of apologizing for that night?”

“Well, I didn’t know what else to do,” Noct said, with an honest shrug. “You never seemed like you wanted to talk.”

Prompto lowered his gaze again. Noct was right about that.

“Prompto, I realize I can’t protect you to the point where I’m smothering you. I know it’s not fair to cage you like that, but I’m not going to stop fighting for your life, either. So, whether you want me here or not, I’m not leaving you to battle this alone. Okay?” Noct said, watching as they locked gazes in the mirror. After a minute, Prompto’s eyes crinkled into a tearful look, and he spun to face his partner. They pulled each other into an embrace, heads resting on shoulders. Prompto released a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry I’ve been pushing you away.”

“It’s okay,” Noct promised, his hand drifting between Prompto’s shoulders, ghosting over the back of his shirt.

“I know we didn’t want to waste any time where we weren’t together. I know this whole issue dragged on all this time because of me. But it’s only because I’m not used to feeling like this... feeling like I’m some sick and fragile thing that needs to be protected.”

“And I don’t want you to feel that way,” Noctis swore to him. “That’s why I _really am _sorry.”

“Me, too. Forgive me?” Prompto asked, with a tilt of his head, tears glistening in his eyes as he pulled back to stare at Noct.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Noctis whispered, brushing a thumb over Prompto’s cheek, tears disappearing as Prompto peacefully closed his eyes. Warmth enveloped him again as he was pulled back into his king’s arms, and soothed by his words.

“Like I told you before, I just want to keep you healthy. I want to keep you for as long as I can. That’s all.”

“I know,” Prompto nodded, feeling so much better than he had in weeks, all because of Noctis—the endearing tone of his voice, the warmth of his strong body, his unyielding will to keep him safe. “I’m still sorry. For shutting you out.”

“It’s okay. Honestly, I get why you did.” Noctis pressed a long kiss to his forehead, earning one quiet sob from Prompto. “Now,” Noct breathed, pulling back and reaching for Prompto’s face again. He ran his thumbs under his eyes, grazing the freshly moisturized skin, so soft and smooth. “Will you do me a favour? Come on a little drive with me? Ignis and Gladio are coming, too.”

“Oh no. Now I’m getting suspicious,” Prompto frowned.

“Come on, you didn’t think I forgot today was special, did you?”

“I was half-hoping you would.” Prompto let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sniffle.

“Don’t be like that,” Noct playfully scolded, taking a step back and holding out a hand to Prompto. “Please?”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Secret.”

“Ahh, Noct, come on. I’m tired. Can’t you just tell me?” Prompto whined.

“The guys and I are taking you out for ice cream, okay, Birthday Boy? Jeez, do you _have _to spoil the surprise?” Noct teased. Prompto’s eyes widened in slight sorrow at the accusation, but Noct merely widened his grin, and Prompto relaxed, accepting Noct’s hand.

“Shall we?”

“Yeah, okay.” Prompto wiped a hand over his face, drying any lingering tears. “Sugary goodness, here we come,” he smiled, following Noct out of the room, the last of his despair forgotten.

* * *

“Wait, _this_ is where we’re going? Hammerhead’s kind of a long way out for some ice cream, don’t you think?” Prompto asked, leaning out the car window to take in the view of the familiar light-up signs, but his comment was ignored.  
  
He’d been enjoying the company so much, he hadn’t realized how long they’d been driving. It was so much like old times—Noctis at the wheel, Ignis and Gladio teasing him about his reckless driving from the backseat. Prompto was glad that Iggy had put aside his differences with him and Noct at least for tonight, for this celebration wouldn’t have felt right without him. Prompto’s exhaustion from the earlier conversation with Noctis had faded completely, now replaced by the excitement of getting to hang with the guys again, just like the old days on the road.

“Heh. This place almost makes me want to say ‘home sweet home’,” Gladio chuckled softly, as Noctis pulled the car into the familiar lot, parking the vehicle just off to the side of the gas pumps.  
  
Even in the darkness, the street lamps illuminated Cindy as she waved wildly from her position inside the garage door. Cid got up from his chair in preparation to come and greet them as Noctis turned off the ignition. Ignis and Gladio eagerly got out of the car to say their hellos, but Noctis reached for Prompto’s hand before he could do the same, pulling his curious gaze toward him.

“What’s goin’ on, Noct?” Prompto asked, eyes half-lidded and unimpressed.

“So, _maybe_ I left out the part about celebrating with Cid and Cindy, too,” Noct said, shrinking a little in his seat. Prompto eyed him with a stern gaze, but smirking lips.

“Yeah, well, I’d be mad except Takka’s place _does _have some pretty awesome ice cream.”

“All right, then,” Noct grinned, straightening up again, relieved that he was out of trouble—at least for now. “In that case, you ready for this?” he asked, tenderly, rubbing his thumb over Prompto’s hand. He wondered if Prompto might find it hard being back here with the others, for it would inevitably remind him of days gone by, but Prompto merely gave him a grin.

“Sure, I am!”

“Good. Tonight is all for you, okay? Enjoy it,” Noctis smiled, leaning in to brush his nose against Prompto’s, and Prompto stole a kiss while he was so conveniently close. They pulled back and exchanged another smile before reaching for their doors and getting out of the car.

“Hey, y’all! Good to see ya!” Cindy called out, waving her arm high above her head as Noctis and Prompto approached with linked hands. As they got nearer, Prompto couldn’t help but take in the girl’s attire. Instead of her standard mechanic outfit, she was dressed in a pink, v-cut tank top and white mini-skirt, but her Hammerhead ball cap remained perched upon her head.

“Hey, Cindy. Good to see you, too,” Noctis greeted, as she pulled the two boys into a hug. When she released them from her embrace, Prompto gave her a once-over and a smirk, to which Noctis responded with a quizzical brow.

“You look great, Cindy. Good thing I figured out I’m a one-man kind of man, or I’d be doing some serious flirting,” he grinned, earning a playful swat in the back of the head from Noctis.

“Just like old times, huh?” Cindy laughed, remembering how smitten Prompto had once been with her. Of course, the whole thing had been a huge, confusing ordeal for Prompto. He’d tried so hard to figure out whether he liked girls in addition to guys, and had tried to wean himself off of Noctis because he’d feared that once they got to Altissia, the beautiful, wonderful relationship that they’d had would be over.

Even through the years of darkness, he had struggled, but only because he knew by then that no one else could fill the void in his heart—only the man tucked away on the Isle of Angelgard, sleeping in his crystal until he was ready to face the world. It had only taken one drunken night for Prompto to spill his secrets about Noctis, and Cindy had listened, sympathetic to his grieving.

“You do remember your one and only man is standing right here?” Noctis muttered, teasingly. Prompto turned to him with a wily grin and squeezed his hand, still basking in the excitement of finally having made up.

“Oh, I could _never_ forget _you_.”

“Good,” Noct said, with a satisfied little grin, closing his eyes and tossing his nose in the air in feigned arrogance.

“Alright, let’s keep all those hormones in check,” Cid gruffly announced, making his way over to the group, moving a little more slowly and creakily than the boys were used to. Even so, there was a joyful gleam in his eyes—maybe from teasing the youngsters before him, or perhaps from simply seeing them all alive and well.

“Cid, how’re things? How’s business?” Gladio asked, offering him a handshake.

“Back to normal. Place is bustlin’ like it used to be. Honestly, some days we could use another hand or two,” Cid said, and Prompto and Noctis exchanged a glance. Noctis gave him a nod, encouraging him to speak up.

“Really? I was actually telling Noct that I had an interest in fixing up some cars,” Prompto said. “You think I could help out?”

“Well, sure. The more hands on deck, the better, so long as you know your way around a toolbox, son,” Cid went on, wagging a finger at the young man. Prompto nodded confidently.

“Yes, sir. I do.”

“Good. Anytime you want to drop by, feel free to give us a hand,” Cid smiled.

“Alright, enough chatter, y’all. There’s plenty of time for that inside. Takka’s waitin’,” Cindy announced, with a wide, toothy smile. She waved for everyone to follow, and together, they headed for the diner.

The circular building was lit up like it used to be, with red and white lights on the exterior, and a white glow emanating from the windows. They halted at the doorway, and Prompto gave his friends a suspicious frown as they refused to go any further. With a gentle nudge of her elbow, Cindy coaxed him to enter first.

“Surprise!” came a loud cheer, as people popped up from behind the bar counter and out of booths. The pop of a confetti gun sounded, and Prompto put a hand to his chest as he scanned the room, wide-eyed as pieces of sparkly, coloured paper drifted down before him. Balloons and streamers littered the diner’s walls and ceiling.

Takka stood behind the counter with a smile. Hammerhead’s arms vendors and shopkeepers stood at a table on the left wall. Monica, Cor, Dustin, Fae, and Talcott stood by another table on the right. Continuing along were Aranea and Iris. Everyone was smiling at him, cheering and clapping for him, and he had a hunch as to who had planned something to make him feel so special, so important, so loved.

“Wow, this is amazing! Thank you so much, everyone!” he grinned, before feeling his friends brushing past him, giving him pats on the shoulder and uttering happy birthday wishes as they went to claim a table for themselves. When Noctis approached, he lingered by his side.

“So, you lied again when you said it was only going to be Cid, Cindy, and the guys...?” Prompto started, and Noctis bobbed his head from side to side, playfully dodging Prompto’s accusing stare.

“I may have bent the truth a little,” he hummed. He met Prompto’s eyes and gave him a smile, watching Prompto’s scolding expression as it transformed into a smirk. “And now you know the_ other_ reason why I didn’t patch things up with you sooner. I suck at hiding things from you.”

“Yeah,” Prompto nodded, still smirking. “That's true.”

“Alright, come on, Birthday Boy. Time to mingle.” Noctis gently raised a hand to Prompto’s back, and coaxed him forward, allowing him to choose which group he would address first. He proceeded over to the vendors, giving them all handshakes and thanking them before wandering over to Takka and doing the same. Next, he found his way to Cor and the others, expressing his gratitude with a half-handshake, half-hug, before waving for Fae and Talcott to get in close beside him.

“Come on, kiddies. This’ll be one for the books,” Prompto grinned, reaching into his pocket for his phone, but Noctis stepped in, offering him his bigger, more professional camera model.

“Huh? Where’d that come from?” he asked, in surprise.

“The car. I know you well enough to know you’d be kicking yourself later if you took pictures on that thing instead of this,” Noctis smiled, softly.

“You actually thought to bring it with us?”

“Of course, I did.”

Prompto smiled, both at how thoughtful Noct was, and how proud he looked in that moment. Gratefully, Prompto accepted the LOKTON camera from Noctis and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. Now, Talcott and Fae leaned their heads in close to Prompto’s, as Prompto held his camera out at arm’s length to capture the photo, all three of them happily grinning.

“Say fuzzy pickles!”

“Fuzzy pickles!” the two cheered, with confused, but hysterical grins on their faces—Fae’s eyes almost closed with laughter, Talcott’s wide and joyful. Once the flash went off, Prompto brought the camera down in front of him to view the image, and all three of them chuckled at the sight of it.

“That’s a keeper, for sure,” Prompto beamed, giving each of them a proper hug before returning to Noctis’ side. Iris ran in next, pulling Prompto into a hug.

“Happy Birthday, Prompto,” she smiled.

“Thanks, buddy,” he grinned. “And hey, Aranea, where’s my hug?!”

Aranea rolled her eyes.

“You’re not serious.”

Prompto quirked his brows in an upward motion, his grin unfaltering, and she huffed as she stepped forward.

“Only for you, blondie. Don’t tell anyone,” she warned. Prompto chuckled, and Iris motioned toward his camera.

“Take one of the three of us, Noct?” she asked, voice chipper, waving the king over.

“Sure.” Noct nodded his agreement, and accepted the camera from Prompto.

He took a few steps back to make sure he got everyone in the frame. Iris wrapped an arm around Prompto, and Aranea stood on the other side of him. Once the flash went off, they gathered together to view the photo, and laughed at Aranea’s stiff smile.

“Thanks, ladies,” Prompto grinned, appreciatively before he and Noctis made their way to Ignis and Gladio; the two were standing at the first table inside the entrance.

“Get over here,” Gladio coaxed, with a loving, playful smile. He hooked his elbow around the back of Prompto’s neck and tugged him into a hug. Prompto squawked, hands pushing at Gladio’s giant arm to free himself.

“Watch the hair, big guy! The hair!”

“Alright, fine. No noogies tonight,” Gladio said, heaving an exaggerated sigh. He released his hold on Prompto, who raised his hands to the swoop of his hair, just to make sure it hadn’t been tousled in the slightest.

“Seriously, Happy Birthday, kid,” Gladio smiled, before Ignis stepped up, pulling Prompto into an unexpected hug.

Prompto wasn’t sure he’d _ever _been hugged by Ignis before—maybe because of the man’s stiff demeanour and elite upbringing, or perhaps because the occasion had never arisen. After everything, he’d half-expected Ignis would be mad at him for continuing to live alongside Noct, but he certainly didn’t seem upset. Perhaps this was his way of making sure he knew that.

“Yes, Happy Birthday, Prompto. I sincerely hope you enjoy this evening, and that you have many, many joyful years to come,” Ignis said, as he pulled away from the hug. The words made Prompto feel a little sick to his stomach, but he tried to push past them; Ignis hadn’t meant it as a reminder of what might happen, but rather as hopefulness for his future.

“Thanks, you two,” Prompto said, pushing forth another smile as Gladio reached for his shoulder and pulled him in to stand in front of him.

“Don’t we get a picture, too?”

“Of course, you do,” Prompto chuckled, and Gladio and Ignis gathered in close. With a smirk, Gladio held two fingers up behind Prompto’s head, like the immature kids used to do in elementary school.

“Bunny ears? Really? I can see that, you know,” Noctis said, voice dull. Prompto spun his head around to catch the big guy in the act before he could whip his hand away. Prompto gave an amused shrug.

“It’s cool. I can always edit it out,” he said, turning back toward the camera with a grin. The three of them smiled, Gladio giving up his little game before the flash went off. Once they had a chance to approve of the photo, Noctis reached for Prompto’s shoulder with a teasing smirk.

“Okay, I’m starting to get a little jealous here.”

“I’m sorry, _honey_,” Prompto sang. “I didn’t mean to leave you out.”

Noctis smiled contentedly as Prompto came to stand beside him, and they snapped two pictures—one of them smiling at the camera, and one of Noct pressing a kiss to Prompto’s cheek as Prompto wore an exaggerated look of surprise. They reviewed the images on the back of the camera with soft laughter, before Prompto looked up, realizing something was missing.

“Hey, where did Cid and Cindy go?”

“Happy Birthday,” came Cindy’s singing voice, as she emerged from the kitchen holding a huge cake with white icing, and several vibrantly-coloured burning candles on top. The door to the kitchen swung open again behind her as Cid followed. Prompto watched in surprise as Cindy headed on towards him, while everyone else in the room continued to sing.

“Happy Birthday, dear Prompto…” They paused as Noctis gently nudged Prompto to sit down at the table with Ignis and Gladio, and Cindy stepped in to set the cake down.

“Happy Birthday to you,” everyone finished, with a cheer and another round of applause.

“And many more,” a vendor sang out, loudly and intentionally off-key, and everyone burst into laughter. Another twist in the gut for Prompto. He didn’t want to think about time, or years, or what exactly having another birthday meant for him. He just wanted to forget.

The lights dimmed, and a hand on his back startled him back to reality; he hadn’t even noticed Noctis sitting down next to him. He turned to look at his partner, the candles reflecting in Noct’s eyes in a gentle orange glow.

“Make a wish, and blow ‘em out,” Noct reminded him, and Prompto nodded, blinking rapidly as he tried to refocus himself. He drew his attention to the cake, taking in the sight of the yellow chocobo neatly drawn on in icing, and the words ‘Happy 32nd, Prompto!’ written around the circular border.  
  
His brain threatened to go into panic-mode. Thirty-two years old? Really? He hadn’t let himself think about the number until now. That only gave him, what? Eight years? Maybe nine? And that’s if he was lucky enough to even make it that far.

He thought back to the wish he’d made at the Tidemother statue. If he were to wish for Noct’s peaceful reign again, would the universe cancel it out because he’d wished for the same thing twice? Or would it increase the chances of it coming true? Should he try for the impossible, and ask for more time? Was it worth it, or would it simply be wasting a wish that he could spend on Noctis instead?

“He’s thinking hard,” Noct nervously said to the crowd, not wanting to rush Prompto, but feeling the need to smooth over the abnormally long pause.  
  
A chorus of soft laughter reverberated through the room, and Prompto blinked again. He was going to lose it, wasn’t he? He couldn’t take a panic attack. Not now, of all times and places. Another brush of Noctis’ hand against his back grounded him, and he turned to meet those beautiful eyes that were tender, but filled with worry that he was trying hard to hide.

“You don’t have to wish for anything if you don’t want to. You can just blow out the candles,” Noctis said, with a tiny shrug and a smile.  
  
Prompto nodded, and turned back to the cake, taking in a breath and blowing out half the candles with one gust of air. He sucked in another breath, and blew again, extinguishing another group of flames. Two remained, and he fiercely blew at these, wanting them to disappear, and knock those two years off of his actual age as well.

Another cheer erupted as small wisps of smoke rose from the extinguished candles, but Prompto was deaf to it as Cindy leaned over the table. He watched blankly as she removed the candles, and pushed the knife through the icing and layers of cake.

“The birthday boy always gets the first piece. Here ya go, sunshine,” she announced, slapping his slice onto a festive paper plate and setting it down in front of him.

“Thanks,” he said, never hearing her words, but rather reading her lips to the best of his ability. Cindy continued to dish up, and the lights and volume level rose again as people began chattering.  
  
Prompto picked at his cake with his fork, managing to consume very small bites every so often while listening to Gladio and Ignis’ stories. Noctis stole glances at him, watching carefully to make sure he was okay. Whenever he started to really fear that Prompto was struggling, Prompto would jump into the conversation with a joke or witty remark, contributing to the conversation in ways that were so distinctly him—the carefree, lighthearted young man he used to be.

It wasn’t until all other plates were empty that Noctis’ worries grew again, for Prompto still had a good portion of cake left on his plate, his fork still pushing it back and forth. He scraped crumbs off the top, but never downed a bite.

“You feeling okay?” Noctis whispered to him, when Cor and Monica came over to chat with Ignis and Gladio.

“Oh, yeah,” Prompto nodded, realizing he’d been caught, and he dropped his fork onto his plate, giving up his attempts to eat any more. “I’m still kind of full from supper. That was delicious, though.”

Wanting to seek some sort of contact, Noctis reached for Prompto’s hand under the table, where they linked and rested on Prompto’s thigh until most of the visitors had left.

* * *

Once the party had died down, Noctis got to his feet to help with the cleanup, giving Cindy a few minutes to sit and catch up with Prompto herself. Prompto showed her the gifts he’d gotten from several of the party’s attendees, and chatted with her, Ignis, and Gladio about the good times they’d had during the otherwise horrible years of darkness.

Noctis helped Fae, Talcott, Takka, and Cid gather up the cups and plates that had been left around the diner, before grabbing a broom and attempting to sweep up the confetti that still littered the floor. As he carried the dustpan outside to empty it in a nearby dumpster, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to smile at Talcott in a silent greeting.

“Hello, Your Majes— I mean, Noct,” Talcott corrected himself, earning an even warmer grin from Noctis. “I just wanted to say, it was very kind of you to do this for Prompto, and I hope you’re getting along okay with... well, everything.”

“Thanks, Talcott. Guess you heard, huh? Word of his condition seemed to spread pretty fast. But then again... You’ve known for a while, haven’t you?” Noct asked, voice far more solemn now. Talcott watched the sad twitch of the king’s mouth as he stood there under the white outdoor lights of the diner.

“Regretfully, yes. Back when you asked me about getting the engagement ring for Prompto, I’m afraid I had no idea that he’d never told you about his condition. I used to see Prompto in Lestallum from time to time, and he told me the truth one night over a couple of beers. I’m sorry I didn’t realize—”

“It’s okay,” Noct promised. “I know now. That’s the important thing.”

“Right,” Talcott nodded, voice quiet. “Did he like the ring, at least?”

“Well, he hasn’t actually seen the ring yet,” Noct half-smiled. “The proposal didn’t exactly go as planned.

“O-oh. I’m sorry.”  
  
“Don’t be. I’ll try again at some point. When he’s ready.”

“Well, if there’s anything I can do to help, just say the word.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Talcott.”

“Your Majesty?” Fae stepped cautiously down the steps from Takka’s diner and rounded the corner, finding her king along with the polite young man named Talcott.

“What’s up?” Noct greeted.

“Prompto is wondering if you were almost finished. He says he wants to head home soon, but he, um... He doesn’t look that well, and I’m a little worried,” Fae admitted, expression tainted with fear and dread.

“Alright, I’ll check on him.”

“I can stay and help with the rest of the cleanup, Your Majesty, if you want to take Prompto home,” Fae offered.

“I’d appreciate the help, for sure, but Monica and the others already left. We’d be your only way back,” Noct frowned, looking puzzled as he tried to figure out their best move.

“Are you going back to the Citadel, m’lady? I can drive you when you’re ready, if you’d like,” Talcott added, with a gentle smile at the girl. Fae appeared a little stunned—perhaps even a little flustered—before giving a wary glance at Noctis. Noct laughed warmly.

“Don’t worry, Fae. You’d be in good hands with Talcott. He’s quite a gentleman,” Noct promised her.

“Okay,” Fae nodded, slowly. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Talcott said, in reassurance.

“Is that good with you, Fae?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine,” the girl agreed. “Just make sure Prompto’s okay?”  
  
“I will. Don’t worry,” Noct smiled, before heading back into the bright lights of the diner.

* * *

Once the party was over, the four drove back to the Citadel in the dark. Noctis and Prompto said their good nights, and parted ways from Gladio and Ignis. Prompto looked rather sick as they rode the elevator up to Noctis’ room, and as soon as it reached the level, Prompto took off like a bullet, with a hand over his mouth.

“Prompto!” Noctis called out, tearing after him. Noctis followed at a dead run down the hall, finding the door to his chambers standing open, and Prompto nowhere in sight. The sounds of retching made the king freeze where he stood, before he forced his legs to move again and carry him to his partner.

He warily entered the bathroom to see Prompto crumpled on the floor, throwing his guts up into the toilet. Embarrassed, once he’d finished, he shakily reached for some tissues and wiped his face before tossing them into the toilet and giving it a flush. He sat back, looking worn and pale and defeated, and he peered up at Noct with regret in his eyes. Noctis was at his side in a second, kneeling on the floor with him and wrapping his arms around him, letting Prompto’s head fall in against him, along with most of his weight.

“I _knew_ something was up,” Noctis murmured. “I’m sorry, maybe having that party was too much. We shouldn’t have made such a big deal of your birthday.”

“No, it’s fine, Noct. I appreciate what you did, really. It’s just… when I think about what it all means, it makes me feel…” Prompto didn’t need to finish his sentence; he could tell he’d been understood by the way Noctis held him tighter.  
  
Noct could understand how this could feel more like a painful blow than a celebration. Prompto was dying day by day, and anything that marked the passing of another year could only be seen as tragic. He was stuck in this web of fate, and as far as either of them knew, there was nothing they could do to change that.

“I know I said I’d made my peace with this, Noct, but when we’re together, life is just so good that I don’t want it to end.”

Noctis remained silent, fighting to keep himself under control.

“But I’m actually really scared, Noct. I don’t know how or when my body is going to break down. Whether it will be sudden or painfully slowly,” Prompto admitted, fighting tears, and he immediately felt Noctis’ body shaking as he fought to stop his own emotions.

“It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it? Did you know one of the main benefits of MTs was that they didn’t fear death? And here I am. Terrified.”

“I know. I know, Prom,” Noct whimpered, sniffling. Prompto curled a hand around Noct’s forearm and clutched it desperately where it rested around his chest, holding him so protectively.  
  
“What can I do to help?” the king asked, softly, brushing his hand through Prompto’s soft hair. “What do you need from me? Just tell me, anything you need.”

“Just your love. And your support,” Prompto said tearfully, pushing forth a weak smile that made Noctis hold him tighter still.

“I can do that,” Noctis promised, pressing a kiss to Prompto’s hair and waiting for the man to steady his breathing before he said anything more. “And right now? What do you need?”

“Maybe we could take it easy tonight? Put on a movie or something? Something where I don’t have to think too much,” Prompto said, pulling back enough to look at Noct’s face for a response.  
  
Noctis pushed forth a smile, and tousled Prompto’s hair lightly—in a way that he never would have allowed anyone but Noct to do to his perfectly coiffed do. Then again, Noctis knew how much hair-mussing he could do before he got in trouble.

“We can do that, too,” he nodded, and Prompto once again caught a glimpse of sadness behind his smile. Their eyes fell closed as Noct leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead. Once he pulled back, he rubbed Prompto’s arm, comfortingly.

“You feeling alright now? You okay to get up?”

“I think so, but I might be a little shaky.” Thanks to the adrenaline from his rush to the bathroom, and the discomfort of vomiting, he still felt a little weak.  
  
Thankfully, the support of Noct’s arms was enough to help him to his feet, and he leaned against Noct as they made their way to the bedroom. Noctis kept close to Prompto until he was situated on the bed, then he went to the wooden cabinet under the entertainment unit to search for a movie.

Noctis had recently moved most of his possessions out of his old room and into his father’s chambers, and he was thankful now that he had brought along some of the old movies he and Prompto used to watch. He’d been tempted to leave them where they were, thinking that perhaps some things were better left in the past—he was King now, after all, and didn’t have so much time for leisure—but it was those little things that made this place feel like home.

“What’s your pick? We’ve got that photography one that you liked,” Noctis suggested, wanting to steer clear of anything remotely upsetting tonight.  
  
Prompto remembered this as one of his favourites—the comedic story of a photographer who overcame several unlikely, crazy obstacles to achieve his goal as a photojournalist. He’d thought Noctis had enjoyed it the first time they’d watched it, but after the next two times, the prince had admitted finding it a little dull.

“Do you mind?” Prompto asked, adjusting his back against the pillow, propped up at the headboard.

“Not at all,” Noctis promised, popping open the case and inserting the disc before Prompto could argue about it.  
  
He grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV, and joined Prompto on the bed. He skipped past the trailers, and started the movie; Prompto seemed eager to get lost in something besides the real world. Noctis moved in against him, his head resting on his chest, and his arm lacing around his middle. He tuned into the sound of Prompto’s beating heart, content to treasure that sound for the entirety of the movie.

When it was over, Prompto reached for the remote and turned off the TV. He peered down at the man still resting against his chest. He had fully expected Noct to be asleep by now, but to his surprise, the man tilted his head to look at him, not appearing the least bit tired.

“Still think it was boring this time?” Prompto asked, brushing a hand over Noctis’ hair.

“No, it was good, but, um…” Noct adjusted himself to sit beside Prompto, who could sense an impending conversation. “I have to tell you something, and I hope it doesn’t make you feel any worse.”

“What is it?” Prompto prodded, expression twisting into worry as he watched the man with intent. Noctis’ lips twitched and pressed together; he looked unsure of whether he wanted to speak at all.

“I found out where your parents are.”

“What?” Prompto’s eyes widened, and Noctis could feel the tension in his body grow as they were pressed shoulder to shoulder. “Where are they? Are they alive?”

“Yeah, they’re… They’re living in Gralea.”

“Gralea,” Prompto repeated, numbly. It was weird to think that once again, the shattered pieces of his life were rooted in Niflheim territory.

“How do you feel about it?” Noct dared to ask, ducking his head a little to try and meet Prompto’s distant gaze.

“I… don’t know what to feel, exactly. Relieved, I guess. Happy. But confused, too.”

“I get that,” Noct sympathized.

“Well,” Prompto breathed. “It’s not like we’re going to visit them right away or anything. I have time to think about this, right?”

“Yeah. And if you decide you don’t want to go, that’s okay, too,” Noct said, assuring him of that.

“Right.” Prompto seemed in a daze then, staring absently at the bed-covers, and Noctis wracked his brain for a way to salvage this night that was supposed to have been wonderful. Of course, the idea hit him immediately, and he couldn’t believe he’d almost forgotten such an important detail of the night.

“Hey—” he announced, getting up from the bed and travelling over to his dresser.  
  
He pulled open the top drawer and pushed aside multiple bundles of folded socks before he found what he was looking for. When he turned around, Prompto’s eyes lit up with a soft look of surprise and adoration; Noctis was holding two small packages on top of one another, both wrapped in shimmering, gold paper.

“Happy Birthday,” Noctis murmured, smiling warmly, before he made his way back to the bed. He handed over the packages, and Prompto eyed him with a curious smile before tugging at the ribbon that held the two parts together.

“Which one should I open first?”

“Maybe this one,” Noctis said, pointing to the bottom parcel, which was the bigger and squarer of the two. Prompto unwrapped it to find a box with a picture of a camera lens on the outside.

“Wow, Noct!”

“It’s one of those lenses with the filters you like. I think this one’s got a vignette and makes everything look really soft, almost like a painting?” Noct said, leaning forward slightly to analyze the box. He couldn’t remember exactly which one he’d ordered; there had been so many to choose from.

“That’s amazing, Noct. Did you know I was looking at these?” Prompto quizzed.

“You _may _have left the tab open on your laptop one day,” Noct smirked, and Prompto shook his head, still smiling in disbelief that Noct would buy him something so expensive, especially when money was tight. He supposed he should have been used to it by now. Noctis had always liked to play the prince card and spoil him with whatever he wanted.

“Thank you. So much.” Prompto leaned in to kiss him, and Noctis accepted the gesture gratefully. Prompto was eager to take the lens out and play with it a bit, but he figured he should move on to the next present first, so he wouldn’t keep Noct in suspense.

He set the lens box aside, and moved on to the smaller wrapped parcel. He tore it open to find a case with a disc inside it. It didn’t have any official printing on it—not even a handwritten note to tell him what it was.

“Huh? What’s this?”

“Hmm. Guess we’ll just have to play it and find out,” Noctis playfully mused. He took the case and got up again, heading for the TV. He popped out the movie disc and replaced it with the mystery one.

He hurried back to Prompto’s side as it loaded, and Prompto glanced at him in curiosity as it started to play. Noctis rubbed his shoulder as he held him close, and smiled in response, giving a nod toward the television.

“_Okay, make sure you get this, Noct. It’s gonna be epic_,” came Prompto’s voice over the screen. The camera jiggled around a bit before it focused on Prompto in front of the campfire with his gun pointed up to the sky.

_“Alright, I’m ready when you are.”_

Prompto spun his gun around in his hand a few times before striking a pose.

“_Prompto Argentum, master gunman!” _Prompto shouted. _“It’s like this. A boom, and a bang_, _kaboom!” _With each sound he made, he struck a new pose, while Noctis manoeuvred around behind the camera, making sure he didn’t miss a beat.

_“And for the grand finale…” _Prompto ran a few steps and jumped, kicking his feet up in the air, but failing to execute a graceful landing. He hit the ground hard, landing on his backside, and rolling immediately over onto his stomach to hide his face in shame.

_“Prompto!” _came Noct’s shocked call, before the camera jiggled again, and focused on the ground instead as he knelt beside his friend. _“You okay?” _he asked, rather calmly, voice hinted with amusement. The view was jostled again as he poked gently at Prompto’s back. _“Hey, are you actually hurt?” _The jovial tone in his voice wavered a little as Prompto lay a hand on his back, kicking his legs against the ground behind him.

_ “Not really. Mostly just my pride,” _Prompto groaned, and Noctis chuckled softly.

_“Good. __P__ride will heal_.”

The scene faded to black before the photo slideshow began, and the same song that Prompto had used in his video began to play. The first image was one of the two of them sharing a milkshake at the arcade in their school uniforms; the young Prompto held his camera out in front of him to snap the photo, their heads pressed together. Prompto figured it must have been from one of their early dates together, or maybe even before they had confessed their feelings.

The photo dissolved into a montage of new ones—them at Noct’s kitchen counter, sharing the Tenebraen dessert that Ignis had made for them; Prompto kissing Noctis—who was clad in his work uniform and ballcap for the sushi restaurant—outside the building during his work-break; the two of them cuddled up in their hoodies in the backseat of the Regalia one evening when Gladio and Ignis had run into the store for camping supplies. There were so many pictures, so many memories, from their school days to the roadtrip to that last picture taken in Zegnautus, where Prompto had snapped the shot of the soundly sleeping Noctis who held him safely in his arms.

As the slideshow finished and the screen faded to black again, Prompto turned his head to stare incredulously at the sensitive and thoughtful man who had put this together for him.

“Noct… That was beautiful. How did you—?”

“Gladio showed me that slideshow you made for me. The one you played on my birthday when I was in the crystal. I don’t know if you ever meant for me to actually see it, but it meant so much to me, I just… I had to make something similar for you, because these memories are always going to be what gets us through, you know?” Noctis said, and Prompto nodded, smiling gently.

“I’m mean, the editing’s obviously not as good as yours, but—”

“How did you get all the pictures?” Prompto interjected.

“I went through a lot of your memory cards. Hope that was okay,” Noct shrugged, innocently.

“Of _course_!” Prompto chuckled. “Most of the pictures were _of you_!”

“Yeah,” Noctis murmured, reaching for the back of Prompto’s neck. His fingers tenderly traced circles there, and Prompto leaned forward to touch their noses together.

“Thank you,” he whispered, lacing his arms around Noctis’ neck.

“Good birthday, after all?”

“Great birthday,” Prompto said, kissing him gently. “Can’t believe you went to all that trouble. Planning the party, finding my parents, making this slideshow...”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Noct smiled. “You’re no trouble at all.”


	18. A Generous Donation

The rest of the week passed quickly, and Noctis was looking forward to the miracle of a Saturday off. There were no appointments, and he was caught up on paperwork. Throughout the week, Dolosus had helped him go over some documents, and had volunteered to mail them out for him, insisting that Noctis deserved some time off. And so, the busy king had been free to sleep in.

He woke up at the sound of the dresser drawer closing, and he lifted an eyelid to spy Prompto, shirtless and pulling on his leather glaive trousers. The sight was worth the hassle of opening a second eye, and he gave his companion a sleepy smile.

“I’m sorry. I was trying not to wake you,” Prompto said, brows twisting in sympathy.

“’S’okay. C’mere, will ya?”

“Guess I’ve got a few minutes before I have to be on duty,” Prompto obliged with a grin.  
  
He made his way to the bed, sitting back against the headboard, and pulling the covers up to his waist, more than willing to enjoy a few extra minutes under their warmth. Noctis lifted his tired head just long enough to plop it onto Prompto’s lap, and his eyes drifted shut again. Prompto laughed softly.

“Wish you didn’t have to go,” Noct murmured, sucking in a deep breath, hoping it might wake him a little.  
  
He wanted the drowsiness to fade enough so that he would remember this conversation later. Every moment with Prompto was too precious to take for granted, just like every precious trait and feature. Lying there, he could smell Prompto’s peachy shampoo, could feel each tiny movement of his hands as they massaged his scalp, his fingertips still slightly shriveled from his recent shower.

“Trust me, I wish that, too. You know, technically, you _are _the boss. You _could _give me the day off.”

“Can’t be seen showing favouritism, can I?” Noct slurred, smirking.

“Alright, fine. The fact that I’m your favourite will remain _our little secret_ for now then,” Prompto teased, fingers continuing to lightly scratch at Noctis’ scalp and thread through his hair. The motion was pretty familiar to Noctis, as Prompto used to remedy quite a few of his headaches with the skilled touches of his fingers, but it had been a while since those days. Through the soothing motions, Noctis gave a sleepy moan.

“Feels good.”

“Ah, what I wouldn’t give to hear you say that under different circumstances,” Prompto replied, in a sing-song voice.

“Prompto...” Noct mumbled, sounding half-irritated, half-sorry.

“I know, I know. I’ll drop it.” _For now_, he thought. Sooner or later, Noctis would have to crack, right? Despite the talk they’d had on his birthday, he wasn’t about to give up _all _hope of a romantic rendezvous.

“So, since you’re going to be more involved with my work now, are there any issues you’d like to bring up?” Noctis asked, changing the subject effortlessly; Prompto swore he had been practicing in his mind.

“C’mon, Noct, we don’t have to talk about work on your day off.”

Finally, Noctis’ eyes drifted open, and he turned his head to gaze up at Prompto. Prompto wore a look of concern, like he honestly felt the topic might ruin Noctis’ day, but Noct merely gave him a relaxed smile.

“This isn’t just about work. It’s about _you_, and I want to know.”

“Uh, okay, but I’m still not totally sure what to say. It’s your kingdom.”

“Well, yeah, but... I’m still hoping that someday it’ll be _our _kingdom,” Noct said, expression timid. When Prompto’s gaze flickered around uncertainly, he spoke on. “Anyway, back in Altissia, you said I could ask you for advice any time I wanted. So, I’m asking now. I need your help, Prompto. You’re still my main link to those years when I wasn’t around.”

“Y-yeah,” Prompto nodded. “Okay. Well...” It was a strange feeling, a king asking for his opinion. Even if this was the boy he’d grown up with and dated for years, it was still surreal to know how much Noct needed him, and to know that he could be such an asset to something as huge as restoring the world.

“There is one thing I’ve been thinking about,” he started, and Noctis perked up a little, his smile returning as he peered up at him with curious eyes. “Meteorshards used to be used all the time in Lestallum. They helped us get power all across the grid, and keep the lights on when everything was threatening to go dark. People used to dig for them, hunt for them, trade for them. There was an abundance of them in the end, but nowadays, they’re pretty much useless.”

“Uh-huh?” Noct encouraged.

“So, I was thinking, why not make them into something useful? They’re pretty solid material, so I was even wondering if they could be used for building supplies.”

“Really?”  
  
“Yeah, they’re pretty sturdy. If we could melt them down, they would make a pretty strong metal,” Prompto nodded. “I guess if meteorshards were seen as having value again, people would probably start charging for them, so I don’t know if we could buy a lot right away to use in the kingdom, with our money situation and all. But there’s also the option of setting up a trading post. There used to be a lot of those around in those days, too. People could trade things of equal value.”  
  
Noctis reached a hand up to Prompto’s face, thumb brushing fondly over his goatee.

“Prompto, do you know what this would mean? If there _was_ a way to turn those meteorshards into building supplies...”

“Then that would save you a lot of money, yeah. People would have their own supplies for rebuilding, and they wouldn’t have to go through you to get them.”

Noctis sat himself up, eyes meeting Prompto’s before he leaned in to kiss him, hand lingering on his face. The kiss was a silent gesture of thanks, and Prompto could feel both the excitement and relief in Noctis’ body; he always seemed to relax at the prospect of solving another of the kingdom’s problems. Prompto eased a hand against the curve of Noctis’ back, eliciting another soft moan from the king as he tried to coax him closer, but Noct was smarter than to fall for his enticing acts.

He pulled back with a smile, as nonchalant as ever.

“So, you’re solving Eos’ problems already, huh? I knew you’d come in handy some day,” he teased. Prompto rolled his eyes, and gave an exaggerated groan as he tossed the covers off of himself. He got up from the bed and grabbed his kingsglaive shirt and coat that were draped over the back of the armchair.

“And on that note, I’m off to work,” he smirked, pulling his shirt on over his head. He shoved his arms through the sleeves of his coat, and made sure his collar was propped up properly before he headed for the door.

“Hey, Prom? Your input really is vital. So, thanks,” Noctis smiled, eyes sincere and glowing with pride.

“Yeah,” Prompto smiled tenderly back. “Just glad I can help, buddy. Try and get some more sleep, okay? It’s not often you get a day to rest.”

“I’ll do that,” Noct nodded, rolling in against Prompto’s pillow and tugging it in against his body, hugging it, nose buried in its soft pillowcase. “But just so you know, I sleep better with you as my pillow.”

Prompto snorted a laugh.

“I know. Your pillow will be back as soon as his work is over,” he grinned. Noctis appeared satisfied with that answer, and Prompto continued to smile as he headed out the door.

* * *

Of course, the victory of Noct’s Saturday off was short-lived. It wasn’t even noon when a text came in from Gladio, asking on Monica’s behalf if they could hold a council meeting. And so, he’d dragged himself out of bed, got someone to cover Prompto’s post, and quickly got showered and dressed before making his way to the meeting room.

“Alright. Let’s get to it. What’s this about?” the tired king asked, folding his hands on the table and glancing around at his council.

“Your Majesty, this is about the financial situation. It seems someone has been extremely generous in their donations to Insomnia,” Monica spoke up, eyeing Noctis with a smile that was cautious; it was evident from the deep lines of her forehead that she didn’t want to get her hopes up. Noctis leaned forward slightly, brows furrowing.

“What do you mean?”

“The donation bucket in the middle of the city? Well, there was a stifling amount in it this morning.”

“Okay, how much are we talking?” Noct inquired, not allowing himself to get his hopes up. Any amount would be helpful. Even if he didn’t put it into restorations, he could always set it aside for things like staffing expenses—or for Prompto.

Monica glanced at Cor, who she figured might have a better estimate. Cor pondered a moment before responding.

“Enough to restore the remaining damages to the city, and then some.”

Noctis released a puff of air, and sat back in his chair, stunned. His first instinct was to be happy, but part of him wondered how this could be real. Who would be so generous? How many people even had that kind of money these days? Apparently, he wasn’t alone in his concerns.

“Something about this doesn’t sit right with me,” Gladio grumbled. “Did anyone check—?”

“It’s not counterfeit, Gladdy. We checked,” Iris assured her brother.

“Any idea who it came from, then?”

“I’m afraid we don’t know, Gladiolus. Without any security cameras in the area, and because it was merely placed in the donation bucket, there’s no way to track the donor,” Monica shook her head.

“What about fingerprinting?” came Gladio’s next question, as quickly as if it were pure reflex. Noctis put a thumb to his chin in slight amusement. At least Gladio was taking his job as the king’s protector as seriously as he always had.

“We _could _try that,” Cor hummed in thought, then turned to Noctis for further direction. “What would you have us do, Your Majesty?”

“Maybe fingerprinting isn’t a bad idea. I don’t want to use the money until I’m sure this is for real. The last thing we need is for Lucis to fall victim to another trick,” Noctis said.

“I agree. Make sure that’s not blood money we’re using,” Dolosus added. “We should put the safety of king and country before all else.”

“Of course,” Iris agreed. “Wouldn’t it be great if we _could _use it, though? There’s so much that could be done to fix up the rest of the city.”

“Yeah,” Noct mused, lips twisted to the side in thought. “I guess that should be our first priority, though I’d love to send a little help in Galahd’s direction, if possible. They’re still in a pretty rough situation.”

“If I might, Your Majesty, have you considered lending any aid to Tenebrae? That was the home of your former fiancée, and perhaps those still grieving her passing would take comfort in your assistance. It would show that you still support Lady Lunafreya’s people, even though the Oracle herself is gone,” Dolosus spoke up, watching the pained twinge of Noctis’ eyebrows.

“I recognize that that would make a lot of sense,” Noct acknowledged. “And I want to be on good terms with Tenebrae, of course, but I’m not sure now is the right time to reach out. I was planning to focus first on regions that are a little closer to home. And Tenebrae is in a pretty stable state right now, despite everything that’s happened. They managed to keep an active government, despite the absence of the Nox Fleuret family, and seem to be quite self-sufficient.”

“Right, of course, Your Majesty,” Dolosus responded with a polite nod, an apologetic look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s your birthplace...” Noct sympathized.  
  
“It’s alright, Your Majesty. At a later time, perhaps.”

“So, back to this donation. What should the first order of business be, Your Majesty?” Cor spoke up.

“Well, I guess if you would, Cor, take it for fingerprinting? Where is the money now, anyway?” Noctis asked.

“Eh, w-wait. Should we really say that out loud here?” Prompto cut in, and all eyes travelled towards him. Noctis frowned as he tried to analyze the frantic look in Prompto’s eyes. Was there someone here Prompto didn’t trust? Or was he simply being cautious?

“Y-you know. _The walls have ears_,” he said in an eerie voice, cupping his hands around his mouth to create an echo. Noct knew he was trying to make a smooth recovery, but just in case there was something to his concerns, he gave him a small nod, trusting him wholeheartedly.

“Monica, you and I will discuss that matter further in private after dinner, if that’s alright with you,” Noctis announced, directing his attention back to the older woman. Monica responded with a bow of her head.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Unless anyone has anything else to add, this meeting is adjourned.”

As the council quietly shuffled out of the room, Dolosus waited patiently for his leige, and Prompto’s eyes flickered towards Noctis. He wished they could have a moment alone, but he supposed now wasn’t the time—not with the new advisor standing right there. Noctis met his gaze, and noticed the longing look in Prompto’s eyes, like he was biting back the urge to say something. Instead, Prompto pushed forth a feeble smile, and followed the others to the exit.

* * *

Noctis had every intention of asking Prompto about his cautiousness during the meeting, but after he’d spent the next little while discussing the donation in more detail with Monica, it slipped his mind. Before the week was out, the results of the fingerprinting tests came back. After speaking with Cor about it, Noctis happily made his way to his chambers to report back to Prompto.

It was evening, and Prompto had the night off from guard duties. The room was quiet and peaceful as Noctis entered, the room lit only by the warm glow of the bedside lamp and the city lights that sparkled against the dark sky, visible through the small crack in the curtains.

Prompto looked up from the book he was reading when Noctis plopped a small velvet pouch onto his chest. He was lying on his back on their bed, book held just inches above his face. He looked to the pouch first, then to Noctis who was lying down beside him and propping himself up on his elbow.

“What is this?” Prompto asked.

“The donation money. Cor gave the all-clear. The donor must’ve been wearing gloves because there were no fingerprints. Ah, who knew so much gil could fit into one little pouch,” Noctis mused, playfully.

“And why do_ I_ have it?” Prompto set his book down on the nightstand and picked up the little brown bag, eyeing it suspiciously. When Noctis didn’t answer, Prompto slowly turned his head back towards him, and shook his head.

“No. Noct, you better not be thinking what I think you’re thinking, because if you’re thinking that—” Prompto babbled, and Noctis chuckled.

“How did you even manage to say that without getting tongue-tied?”

“I’m serious, Noct. Why did you give this to me?”

Noctis paused and took a breath, letting it out slowly and calmly before he replied.

“Look, I know I said we’d wait until all of Lucis’ affairs were in order, but I don’t want to wait—”

“Noct—”

“Just listen to me,” Noctis pleaded, and his eyes travelled toward the bedspread until he gathered his courage, then they met Prompto’s gaze in a long, meaningful stare. “I honestly don’t know how much time you and I are going to have together. If we have the means to go on this trip, then I want to go now while you’re strong, and healthy, and...”

“Noct...” Prompto set the pouch aside and rolled over to face his partner, his fingers reaching out to graze soft, pink lips. It halted Noctis from speaking, at least for a moment.  
  
Noctis reached for Prompto’s hand, and grasped it, kissing the backs of his fingers before bringing their hands down to rest in the space between them. His other hand settled on Prompto’s waist, thumb brushing gently over the wrinkles in his loose-fitting shirt.

“Cor said there’s enough to finish repairing the city and then some. So, let’s set aside some money for restorations, and some for us. Please,” Noctis whispered, eyes locked with Prompto’s. When Prompto still seemed to be resisting his charm, Noct moved his head in closer, and brushed their noses together.

“Prompto?”

“I didn’t want you to put me before your kingdom. I _told _you that,” Prompto said, a crease appearing between his brows, expression so sad.

“So, we get restorations underway before we leave. Please, I just don’t want to waste any time. I don’t want it to suddenly become too late for us.”

Prompto was still hesitant to give an answer, so Noctis leaned in closer, searching Prompto’s eyes for permission before he closed his own and kissed him. Prompto kissed back stiffly—not like he wasn’t enjoying it, but just holding back enough to let Noctis know he wasn’t too pleased with him at the moment. Noctis pulled back first, and sought answers within his gaze.

“Noct, it’s not as simple as you seem to think. Even if you take a vacation, your staff doesn’t. You still have to pay them the whole time you’re gone. Plus you have to consider the cost of our transportation and accommodations.”

“Yeah, but... I want to make this work. Dustin’s already agreed to help me figure out how to finance all of this—taking care of staff, restorations, and us. So, please...” Noct begged, gaze so soft, so full of yearning emotion. His eyes displayed a will to make Prompto’s remaining time on this earth as full and rewarding as it could be.  
  
When Prompto still appeared hesitant, Noctis leaned in again, capturing his lips for a second time. He kissed him like he was precious, like he mattered more than anything.

“Please, let me do this for you,” he whispered, thumb ghosting over Prompto’s cheek as they parted. Noctis could tell by the way his lids drifted open that he had enjoyed the kiss more than he had let on, but even when his eyes locked with Noctis’, there was still a sterness in them, a sort of hesitance.

“I have a couple of conditions,” Prompto spoke up.

“I’m listening.”

“We spend the next couple of weeks coming up with a solid plan for restorations. We put all our efforts into making Lucis the best it can be. I mean, I want us to map out all the ideas we can, and start putting them into action,” Prompto said.

“Okay, we’ll do that,” Noctis agreed.

“Secondly, I want this trip to be fun, okay? Not sad. That means you can’t feel sorry for me the whole time.”

“Only some of the time?” Noct quizzed, the corner of his mouth lifting. Prompto frowned and sat up, pulling his hands free of Noctis’ and looking truly unsettled.

“Noct, I’m serious.”

“Okay, fine. What else?” Noctis followed his lead and sat up, giving up the joke. If he was going to win Prompto over this time, it wasn’t going to be through humour. It would be by proving he was as serious about sticking to these conditions as Prompto was.

“I want you to let me pay for half the trip.”

“What? No,” Noctis scrunched up his nose.

“Then I’m not going,” Prompto argued, shaking his head and focusing his gaze on the gap in the curtains straight ahead.

“Come on. If a king can’t pay for his Crownsguard to accompany him—”

“Okay, first of all, this trip is for _me_, okay?” Prompto cut in desperately, spinning his head back to stare at Noctis. “You wouldn’t even be going if it wasn’t for me. And secondly, I’m not just one of your Crownsguard. Noct, I’m your partner. That means we’re in this together. All of this. This life,” Prompto explained, voice softening more as he spoke.  
  
Noctis remained quiet, his eyes and expression timid as he watched his companion—his downcast gaze, the way his expression begged for Noctis to listen to him, the way his hands fell languidly onto his lap.

“I know money’s been an issue lately, and even with this donation, there probably still isn’t enough to make all the changes our world needs. So, I want to help. I want the majority of that money to go back to the people of Lucis. They’re the ones I fought for all that time while you were gone. They need it more than I do, so please... Let me help you with the expenses.”

“Prompto...” Noctis murmured, interlocking their fingers, and taking in his words and confidence with admiration and pride. He wondered how long he had been holding Prompto back, whether he had been unintentionally silencing the strong man he saw before him now. Prompto could speak up for himself—maybe not in elementary or middle school, and maybe just barely in high school, but he was more than capable now.

“All the meals and transportation tickets and accommodations... They’re going to add up. So, please?” Prompto tried again, brows now twisted in uncertainty instead of frustration.  
  
Noctis debated asking whether Prompto was sure it was within his budget to do so, but he thought better of it. If he was offering it, he had to trust he could handle it; he had to trust that Prompto could take care of him, too.

“Okay,” Noctis nodded, and Prompto’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re right. About everything you just said.” Prompto allowed himself to smile, tentatively at first, then warmly, and Noctis reached for the back of his neck. “And thank you, for always putting the people first, and for letting me lean on you, too.”

“It’s what I want, Noct. I promise,” Prompto continued to smile. The king mirrored that smile, caressing the back of Prompto’s neck in thanks.

* * *

“Did you hear the king’s leaving the Citadel for a few weeks? Taking Prompto with him, he is.” Fae peered out of the corner of her eye at the group of glaives at the lunch table adjacent to hers. A burly man with short curly hair gestured emphatically as he spoke.

“Last time he left town, the camp got attacked. Hope we’re not going to be targeted again.”

“It’s doubtful, Toland. The Citadel’s about the most secure place in the kingdom, even without the Wall to protect us. I mean, we’ve been doing a damn good job defending it.”

“Yeah, but if the king’s anything like his father, then he wouldn’t necessarily give us warning even if he knew an attack was coming. You know what happened with the treaty signing.”

“True. The ‘good’ King Noctis could know there’s a threat, and that’s why he’s leaving town. He’s takin’ his boyfriend and gettin’ out of dodge.”

Fae felt her fingers curl tighter around the spoon in her hand, but told herself to remain quiet. These glaives were a bit older than her; standing up to them might get her into more trouble than it was worth. She dipped her spoon into her bowl, gathering up some green curry soup and continuing to eat.

“You hearing this?” her friend Jenica asked, meeting her eyes across the table. She gave a disgusted nod toward the disrespectful glaives, and Fae nodded, trying her best to keep her expression still.

“Yeah, but I wish I wasn’t,” she said, lips pursing.  
  
If these guys had been daemons, she would have been the first in line to kick their asses, but ever since the last argument she’d had with her sister all those years ago, she’d strayed away from picking fights. After all, sometimes the chance to apologize was gone too soon, gone _forever_. Even so, there was always a breaking point when she would be unable to listen to people badmouthing the ones she cared about. She just hoped these guys would shut up before she _reached_ that point.

“It sucks, though. Prompto’s always been a good guy. Even picked up a lot of the slack around here when some of the other glaives abandoned, but I’m afraid the more time he spends with the king, the less he’s going to care about us,” one of the men went on.

“Why do ya say that?”

“It’s only a matter of time until they tie the knot. Once that happens, I doubt Prompto’s going to remain a glaive. Then he won’t have a clue what’s going on with us because he’ll be too preoccupied running a kingdom with the high and mighty Noctis.”

“Hey,” Fae spoke up, shooting the men a glare. “We all took an oath of allegiance to the king when we became glaives. I don’t think it’s right for you to be talking about him like he doesn’t give a damn about us. Because he_ does_.”

“Hate to break it to you, kid, but he’s the same as every other Lucian ruler: selfish. That’s why he sent us out on those hunts. So _he _would look good. He made everyone think he was making the world safer. And you know who got hurt because of it? _Us_. _We_ got attacked by the people trying to assassinate the king.”

“Assassinate?” Fae frowned.

“W-well, that’s what I’d assume they’re planning to do, anyway. I doubt they’d go to all the trouble of trying to get close to him if they were just going to rough him up a bit,” the burly man named Toland shrugged. “Anyway, doesn’t matter what their plan is. They hurt us as a way to hurt the king.”

“So what? Yeah, it was a bad scene, for sure, but the king made a formal apology to all of us,” Fae reminded them.

“And you think that makes it all okay?” an irritated glaive asked.  
  
“No, but it’s the best he can do. It’s not like he can reverse what happened,” Fae argued, lifting her bad arm, no longer in a sling but still covered in the white cast.  
  
A few of the glaives exchanged embarrassed glances, as they realized this girl _did know _what she was talking about. She had been there when the cloaked men had attacked, she had been hurt, and still, she had deemed the king worthy of her forgiveness. Jenica lowered her gaze to her soup bowl, grinning triumphantly at her friend’s ability to tell these guys off.

“And besides, protecting the king is what we all signed up for, right? If you weren’t willing to risk getting hurt, maybe you shouldn’t have joined the kingsglaive,” Fae scowled.

“What did you say?” one of the glaives demanded, bolting up from the table, but one of his friends grabbed his arm, stopping him before the debate could get physical.  
  
“You heard her,” Jenica glared. Both girls turned their attention back to their meal, hoping the conversation would diffuse after that, but of course, some people never knew when to quit.

“I still say he’s a selfish prick. Probably why he fired his last advisor. But I guess I’d side with whatever advisor was gonna allow me to get laid, too.”

Fae slammed her good hand down on the table and got to her feet. She stormed over to the crass group, where the men exchanged amused smiles and barely concealed laughter.

“If you say one more disrespectful thing about King Noctis _or _Prompto, I’m going to let the Marshal know of your insubordination. You _do__ know_ that Prompto talked to the king, right? He told him that aborting the hunts was probably the best move for everyone, and the king agreed and followed through. They’re _both_ willing to listen to the glaives, but they can’t help if they don’t know what the problems are. It’s _our _responsibility to tell them when something’s wrong,” Fae sternly announced.

“Exactly,” Jenica added. “Now, can we all stay calm and give the king another chance? Things will be better, especially now that Prompto is guiding him. They’re both willing to hear our perspective, okay?”

Fae thought fondly on her choice of words. _Things will be better_; that was exactly what the king had scrawled on her cast that day in the garden.

The burly man’s phone whirred loudly, and he glanced at it before picking it up and standing.

“It’s your lucky day, Princess. Saved by the bell,” he sneered, before heading out of the cafeteria to answer his phone.  
  
Fae’s ferocious gaze lingered on him until he left, and she glanced at the men remaining at the table. They looked to be cowering a little now; she supposed that would have to count as a victory. With a sigh, she left them and peace and sat back down at her own table to finish her lunch, though she didn’t have much of an appetite left.

“You okay?” Jenica asked, eyeing the girl who seemed to be trembling slightly from the adrenaline.

“Yeah, fine. I just hope at least _some _part of what I said gets through to them.”

_***_

  
  
Toland made sure he was alone in the hallway before he took out his phone again. He swiped through the small icons until he arrived at the one he wanted. After clicking, he found himself staring at a snippet of text, new since the last time he’d done his reading.

_The king has taken the bait. If you see him, DO NOT attack him, nor those accompanying him. Doing so will ruin our chance of ensuring everyone’s due compensation. _

He closed the application as quickly as he had opened it, and concealed the device in his pocket again. He glanced around the hall, double-checking his surroundings before he casually headed outside for his guard duty.

* * *

As promised, Noctis spent the next two weeks going over restoration plans with Prompto. They made a deal with a local construction company to commence a few projects, which included repairing the last of the damaged roadways in Lucis, and even beginning the restoration of Galdin Quay. They decided they had the means to send another provision truck to Galahd, and loaded it with a decent supply of food, water, and lumber.  
  
Prompto’s outlook on the trip improved after that, as he became more and more confident that they were doing what any leaders should—putting their people before themselves. With those few restoration tasks underway, Prompto was able to relax and enjoy the idea of some time away with Noctis. Finally the departure day came, and Noct was as eager as Prompto was to hit the open road.

“So, this cheque needs to be delivered to the construction company as soon as possible,” Noctis instructed, patting the yellow envelope that was on his desk. “And if you could make notes on anything that happens while I’m away, that would be helpful. I’ll need a full report when I get back."

“Your Majesty, just relax and enjoy, alright? Things are under control here,” Dolosus gently assured him, and Noctis let himself smile. He brushed a hand through his hair, sighing.

“I guess I _am_ worrying a little too much, huh? We did go over all of this a few days ago.”

“We did, and I promise you, everything will be fine. Just be sure to take care of yourselves out there.”

“Yeah. I’m hoping we’ll avoid danger. We’ve both got our weapons with us—concealed by my magics, of course, but at the ready.”

“That’s good to hear, Your Majesty.” Dolosus reached down to grab Noctis’ suitcase from behind the desk, and offered it to him with a smile, knowing the king would start worrying about more unfinished tasks around the Citadel if he didn’t push him out the door.

“Take care, Your Majesty. Don’t worry about a thing.”

“Alright. I’ll see you when I get back. Call me if you need anything,” Noctis smiled, accepting the suitcase and giving his advisor a nod before slipping out of the study.

To his surprise, Prompto was right there waiting at the door with a grin. Noctis closed the door behind him, brows furrowing in curiosity as Prompto linked their elbows together and tugged him along.

“And what exactly are _you_ up to, Mr. Argentum?” Noct quizzed, smirking.

“I’m going to be playing chauffeur today. Let me escort you to your car, Your Majesty.” Prompto’s voice was light and melodic as he led the king down the hall toward the lobby, making Noctis smile.

“Such fine service. Not to mention, the chauffeur is pretty cute, too,” Noct purred.

“_Is_ he?” Prompto grinned, raising his eyebrows playfully. Noctis merely snorted a laugh as they made it to the lobby.  
  
Prompto collected his own suitcase from its position by the entrance before pushing open the large main doors. Once they had made it to the bottom of the steps outside, Prompto hurried to open Noctis’ door for him, finally unlacing their arms.

“You even pulled the car around front. You’re sure on top of things today,” Noctis marvelled.  
  
“Aren’t I always?” Prompto took his suitcase from him and smiled, making sure all of the king’s limbs were safely tucked inside the vehicle before closing the door.

Prompto got in the driver’s side once he’d stowed their suitcases in the trunk, then he pulled his phone out of his pocket and clicked through a few things before turning to Noctis.

“Before we go, I need to show you this.”

Noctis blinked at the brightness of the screen that was all but pushed into his face, and as his eyes focused enough to decipher what he was seeing, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. On the screen was a photo of Galdin, taken in front of the railing overlooking the water. Several construction workers stood smiling at the camera, while lumber, bricks, and mortar were visible on the boardwalk in the distance.

“They’re all set to start, huh?” Noctis beamed.

“Yeah! When Dolosus and I went to check on them yesterday, they showed us the blueprints for the final product. Resort’s gonna be bigger and better than ever, I think! People are gonna be so happy,” Prompto grinned, pulling his phone back to flip to the next photo, which was quite similar to the first.

“That’s amazing. Thanks for driving out there yesterday.”

“It was no problem. Everyone’s so grateful for the money we gave them. Uh, I mean, that _you_ gave them—”

“It _is _‘we.’ If you want it to be,” Noctis quickly interjected.  
  
His shy but curious eyes met Prompto’s, and Prompto’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ shape before twitching into a proud and tender smile. When Noctis realized he probably shouldn’t push Prompto for an answer if he wasn’t ready, he reached over to tap on the steering wheel.

“Ready for the open road?”

“Yeah. Got your clothes? Clean underwear? Fishing rod and tackle box?” Prompto asked.

“Check, check, check, and check. Loaded the fishing stuff in the back last night,” Noct replied.

“Okay,” Prompto grinned, sticking the key into the ignition. “Then let’s do it.” The car roared to life, and he glanced once more at Noct to confirm they hadn’t forgotten anything else. To his surprise, Noct was wearing a serene smile, eyes pointed toward the floor.

“What is it?” Prompto questioned.

“I’m just... really happy to be going on this trip with you. I hope it’s everything you want it to be.” He thought about the items on Prompto’s list—the ones that they had planned to cross off and the ones that he predicted they could squeeze in along the way. He hoped it would be enough, enough to make Prompto feel like he’d accomplished something, enough to make him feel like they were living every moment to the fullest.

Prompto reached for his hand and caressed it gently, coaxing Noctis to meet his eyes.

“I’m sure it will be,” he smiled, giving Noctis a wink. “As long as _you’re_ with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, readers! We are now heading into a few of my favourite chapters of this story, so I hope you will enjoy what is to come! Thank you to everyone who has been supporting this story with comments, kudos, etc. Without you, I would not have the same drive to keep myself on such a strict editing schedule. You are helping me see this story to its completion, so thank you! :)


	19. Meldacio HQ

After a four hour drive with a few stops along the way for bathroom breaks and snack food, they reached their first destination. Noctis had knots in his stomach as Prompto parked the car along the side of the road, just beyond the tunnel leading to Meldacio. He felt silly. His coronation had taken place in front of thousands of people, and the ceremony had reached millions more thanks to the media coverage. Meeting a few of Prompto’s fellow hunters should have been simple, but it wasn’t. He felt out of place, like he wouldn’t understand what they had all been through together, like he would make things awkward, like he wouldn’t belong when all he wanted was to belong in Prompto’s world.

This was probably the exact same outsider feeling Prompto had struggled with all his life. A commoner trying to fit into a prince’s life? Yeah, they had played it off like it was nothing, but Prompto had made it clear to him on that rooftop in Longwhythe that it hadn’t been easy.

As Prompto turned off the ignition and spun to face Noctis, his expression changed to that of worry. Noctis was biting his lip, looking pale and nervous.

“What’s wrong, Noct? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just…” He trailed off, and laughed softly. “I think I feel like you did when I was going to introduce you to Ignis and Gladio for the first time, and you were afraid my friends wouldn’t like you.”  
  
It felt so trivial when he put it that way. He knew he had nothing to worry about, but he still felt better when Prompto reached for his hand and squeezed it gently.

“They’re gonna like you,” Prompto promised, resisting the urge to tease him because he knew why Noct was feeling this way. He had missed Prompto’s hunting days, and it bothered him greatly; the topic had certainly surfaced on more than one occasion. “You’re gonna be fine, trust me. Now, come on,” Prompto smiled, gently.

He gave the king’s hand one last squeeze before letting go and reaching for the car door. Prompto led the way up the wooden steps toward the store, waving to a few familiar faces as they proceeded. An old newspaper rested atop a cooler outside the shop, and it caught Noctis’ eye. He halted where he was, leaning over slightly so he could read it better.

“This is all so surreal,” he hummed, scanning the printed, black words in front of him. Prompto wandered to his side, and focused his attention on the bold lettering.

‘_The good men and women of Niflheim who have taken up refuge here are no different from you and I. They wish only for the same things as the Lucians: an end to this eternal night. These people want to join hands in our fight against the darkness—and knowing this is half the battle.’_

The last time Noctis had been in Meldacio, such kind words would never have been said about those from Niflheim, but it made his heart light to know that people like Prompto no longer had to worry so much about being scorned for their origins. He loved the thought of everyone working together for the sake of the world they shared, and he was proud that Prompto had been a part of it.

“Yeah, it was weird for me, too, at first. Like I’ve said before, people’s attitudes really changed while you were gone. Most people realized that working together for a safe world was much more important than bloodlines.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” Noct murmured, looking up from the paper to meet Prompto’s eyes.

“I mean, I know we still have a ways to go before everyone thinks that way, but those days definitely set us up for a good start. We just can’t let people forget,” Prompto said.  
  
Noctis nodded, letting himself absorb that information as he followed Prompto into the shop. The dark-haired girl behind the counter stared at Prompto in disbelief as he entered with a wave, her eyes and smile growing wide with excitement.

“Prompto?!”

“Hey, Tink. How’s it going?” Prompto smiled.

“_How’s it going_? How long has it been since you’ve been out to these parts, partner?” she asked, reaching across the counter to give him a playful punch in the shoulder. Prompto chuckled lightly, rubbing his arm.

“Yeah, I know. It’s been a while. Sorry, I’ve been busy,” he said with a tiny shrug. The girl’s eyes wandered to Noctis next, and it only took her a second before her inquisitive gaze transformed into a more certain look.

“Wait, are you—?”

“Noctis. Pleased to meet you,” Noct smiled, reaching out a hand to shake hers. The girl shook it, eyes glassy like she was in an elated daze.

“T-the pleasure’s mine, Your Majesty,” she stammered out, and Prompto laughed wholeheartedly.

“You’ll have to forgive Tink. She’s got a thing for celebrities,” he explained, and Noctis smiled as he ended the handshake.  
  
The girl brought her hand to her chest, clutching and rubbing it in disbelief with her opposite hand. It took a second for Prompto’s comment to reach her brain.

“Hey,” she growled, swatting Prompto again from across the counter, making him laugh again in that jovial way that Noctis adored hearing. That sound reminded him that being here would probably do Prompto good—not only because it was an item on his list, but also because it gave him freedom. The change of scenery might allow him to forget about his condition and be his old self for a while.

“So, you weren’t kidding when you told us you and the prince were buddies. Well, I guess if you’ve been hanging out with the king of Lucis, that explains why you’ve been so busy,” she said, trying to keep her eyes off the drop-dead gorgeous royal in front of her.

“Yep. We’ve had a lot on our plate. But enough about us. Any hunts on the go right now?” Prompto inquired.

“Well, Dave’s got a group out near Malmalam Thicket. Had some wildlife wandering all the way up to Old Lestallum, if you can believe that. We’ve been starting to think the animals have been having a hard time adjusting back to the daylight. The shift from the darkness seems to have compromised some of their cognitive abilities,” Tink explained.

“Really? Never considered that before,” Noctis hummed, pensively.

“I guess it makes sense, though,” Prompto added, with a sideways nod of his head.

“If you’re looking to tag along on a hunt, I think Castor is leading a group out to the Vesperpool a little later. If you wanted, you could probably grab some lunch first and then head out with him,” the girl went on. Prompto and Noctis exchanged a glance.

“What do you think, Noct? Should we go on a hunt while we’re here? Help these guys out?” It was more for old time’s sake than anything, and he was pretty sure Noct caught onto that without it being said.

“Yeah, sounds good to me,” Noct agreed.

“Before you go—” Tink bent down behind the counter, obviously searching for something. She poked her head back up shortly after, practically tossing a yellow, metal tin at Prompto, which he accepted eagerly, a look of surprised joy on his face.

“It’s on the house,” Tink assured him. Prompto grinned, tipping the box up slightly to read the red lettering, making sure he wasn’t mistaken as to its contents.

“Thanks!”

“No problem. Careful on the hunt, you two. Drop in again before you leave. You wait too long between visits, Prompto,” the girl winked, and Prompto smiled, tucking the box in against him.

“Okay, I get the message. Thanks again.”

Tink waved as they headed out of the store, and Noct peeked around to try and get a better look at the tin Prompto had been handed.

“What _is_ that?”

“Chocorific crunch. Only the best crunchy, chocolatey treat there is,” Prompto sang, airily. “You’re gonna love it,” he grinned as they trotted down the wooden steps together, leading away from the shop. They headed for the white plastic dining table a few feet away, and a waiter was with them immediately, handing them a menu.

“Take your time to decide, sirs,” he gently offered, and stepped away, giving them some space to look at their choices. Noctis remembered the smells and tastes of the food here from their journey, and he was thankful that there was a part of this place that was still familiar to him: Mama Ezma’s Meat Pie, Meat and Onion Skewers, Hunters’ Ragout.

“What’cha gonna get, Noct?” Prompto quizzed, holding the tall white and brown menu up for them both to see.

“Well, I know how much you always adored the meat pie here. Don’t see how we can go wrong with that,” Noctis smiled.

“Alright. Two meat pies, please,” Prompto called. The waiter turned around and strolled back to their table, accepting the menu back from Prompto.

“Coming right up, gentlemen,” he smiled kindly, before retreating again.

“So, you don’t think we’d spoil our dinner if we had dessert first, do you?” Noctis asked, innocently, his lips forming a small pout as if he were a child asking for candy.

“Ah, I see you’re curious to try this stuff,” Prompto laughed, reaching for the tin he had set upon the table.  
  
He pulled it closer to himself and tugged the lid off, revealing a layer of chocolate-covered clusters of crisped rice and toffee, as described on the label inside the box. Each chocolatey mound was set in its own tiny, white paper muffin cup, every one moulded into a roughly rounded shape.

“Those look delicious,” Noctis awed, mouth watering already.

“Here,” Prompto smiled, taking one out of its cup and bringing it to his partner’s lips. Noctis quirked a brow, slightly surprised, but pleased by Prompto’s actions.  
  
He opened his mouth for Prompto to offer him the treat, and he accepted it, lips brushing not-so-accidentally over Prompto’s knuckles. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d shared an act like this, but he treasured it.

“Wow,” Noctis mumbled through the delectable melting chocolate.

“Good, right?” Prompto smiled.

“Amazing.”

“They were my favourite thing in that shop, let me tell you. I may have eaten a few too many whenever I stopped by here,” he smiled, sheepishly.  
  
Noctis couldn’t blame him; neither he nor Prompto had ever been above stress eating, despite how hard they’d tried to fight the urge. Back in the days when they used to hang out at Noct’s apartment and were feeling down, it hadn’t been uncommon for them to break out the chips and sodas.

“I know what you’re thinking. Chocolate isn’t a cure for loneliness, but it did make me miss you just a _little_ less,” Prompto winked, pinching his index finger and thumb together, leaving only a tiny space between them.

“Oh, is that how it was?” Noct asked, pretending to be hurt, but unable to keep the incredulous and amused grin off of his face.

“Maybe,” Prompto smirked.

“Well, whatever. I now have a weakness when it comes to these things, too.” Noctis coyly smirked at Prompto, and reached for another chocolate, popping it into his mouth.

“_Two _before dinner?” Prompto pretended to scold. Noctis gave a guileless shrug.

“They’re good.”

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” came a young man’s voice.  
  
The two looked up to see a man coming over from across the street. His hair was dark and mostly buzzed short, except for a long section that draped over one side of his face. Noctis recognized it as a hairstyle that glaives sometimes wore; he must have been in the service of the royal family at one point or another.

“Castor! Hey, how are ya?” Prompto greeted, hopping up from his chair. He reached out to grab the man’s hand, and they pulled each other into a sort of hug, patting each other on the shoulder.

“Same as always. Gettin’ by. You?”

“Been good,” Prompto smiled.

“So, what’s it gonna take to get you out in the field again? You sure knew how to handle yourself back in the day,” Castor said, his lips curving into a gentle smile.

“Hey, you were quite the fighter yourself,” Prompto said, nudging his shoulder with his fist. “But honestly, Noct and I were already thinking about joining you for a hunt today. Tink said you were headed for the Vesperpool?”

“Yeah, there have been some sahagins making their way towards Old Lestallum. They seem more confused than anything. They just wander off from where they’re supposed to be. It’s when the humans try to trap ‘em or run from ‘em that they start getting hostile,” Castor explained. “We’re hoping to stop any that seem to be heading in the direction of the town. You up for the challenge?”

“We’re… gonna discuss it, for sure,” Noctis cut in with a forced smile, and Prompto stared at him, wondering why all of a sudden this went from a definite plan to a mere possibility.

“Yeah. We’ll just have our lunch first,” Prompto said, not wanting his old friend to think them rude.

“Sure. We’re leaving at thirteen hundred hours, so meet us at the gate if you want to come along,” Castor smiled, gently.

“Thanks!” Prompto grinned, and Castor gave a wave as he dismissed himself and headed for the nearby arms vendor. The waiter brought their food immediately after, and it wasn’t until he walked away that Prompto was finally able to give Noctis that questioning look he deserved.

“What?” Noctis guiltlessly shrugged, though Prompto’s stare deterred him from taking that first bite of delicious meat pie.

“Why the sudden change? I thought we were all set to hunt.” Prompto continued to stare at Noctis, his fork resting idly between his fingers as it was pressed against his plate, never moving to scoop up a bite.

“That was before I knew we were fighting sahagins. You _do _remember how sharp their teeth are, don’t you?” Noctis asked, eyeing Prompto over the top of his fork as he finally stuffed in a mouthful. He could remember a few too many close calls with those alligator-type creatures, the way they had grabbed onto his leg and pulled him underneath them, vicious and eager to devour him.

“Come on, Noct. We’ve taken down tons of sahagins before, not to mention even more ferocious creatures. Besides, did you forget? Five star hunter here.”

“Yeah, I know, but I... I want to make sure you’re up for it,” Noctis said, his voice small, but his eyes gave Prompto’s form a meaningful once-over. Now it made sense. Noctis was worried about his health, and anything that might make it deteriorate faster.

“Noct, quit worrying, will ya? I’ve got lots of time before things go downhill. I feel perfect,” Prompto tried to convince him with a confident smile.  
  
Noctis pushed back a smile in return, before any of the surrounding hunters caught wind of their conversation and started to worry. Prompto had made it clear that he didn’t want to involve them in matters regarding his condition; he simply wanted to enjoy his time with them like nothing had changed, while all of them continued to live in ignorant bliss of his tragic fate.

“We won’t be separated or anything, right?”

“No, I can make sure we go to the same location,” Prompto said, knowing this was Noct’s reassurance that he would be able to keep an eye on him. He was fine with that, considering he had no desire to leave Noct’s side either.  
  
“You should just say yes, Noct. After all, you’ll get to see me in my hunter clothes,” Prompto sang. Noctis swallowed hard, the seductive quirk of Prompto’s brows setting off something inside him, making him momentarily forget his worries.

“What does that mean? Are they... hot?”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say _you’ll_ think so,” he smirked, and Noctis felt his temperature rise. He waved a hand in front of his face, trying to fan himself before someone as cool and collected as Castor caught him blushing like a beet.

“Well, at least if we do this, it’ll give me an excuse to wear your old hunter t-shirt again,” Noctis announced, diverting the attention to something other than his attraction to Prompto—which was getting harder to ignore, especially with the lack of action between them lately.

“What do you mean,_ again_? You actually wore that old thing?” Prompto asked, recalling the brown, tattered garment that Noct had salvaged from the trash that day in his room, not long after his return.

“Of course, I wore it. I used to sleep in it all the time. But I got scared I was going to wreck it completely when the holes in the collar kept getting bigger,” Noct admitted, his mouth almost pouting, as if he knew Prompto was about to tease him.  
  
“And in all those months we were together, you never thought to bring it up?”

“Pfft, no, I wasn’t going to bring it up. I didn’t want you to know how badly I’d been pining over you,” Noct rolled his eyes.

“I know_ now_,” Prompto grinned, devilishly, his eyebrows rising up and down in a playful manner as he took a bite of his dinner.

“Cut it out,” Noct said in a low, warning growl, still flushing.

“I’m just kidding, buddy. So, what do you say? Can we go? I’ll be super careful,” he sang again, his pleading eyes something Noctis simply couldn’t ignore.  
  
He hated that Prompto felt he had to _ask his permission_. He quickly decided that despite his worries, that wasn’t the kind of boyfriend he wanted to be—one that was stubborn and controlling. He instead wanted to be supportive of Prompto, to walk alongside him instead of holding him back.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Awesome,” Prompto grinned, expression calm, but grateful. “Let’s eat and go suit up.”

* * *

Just beyond the main headquarters was a small camping area, where various tents were set up for visiting hunters. Castor led them to the one they could call their own for the night, and they transferred some of their belongings from the car to the tent. Noctis changed first while Prompto continued to make pleasantries with some of the other hunters. When it was Prompto’s turn to change, Noctis waited patiently outside, obliging when Prompto told him, “No peeking. I want to see your jaw drop when I come out looking like a total knockout.”

Just as he’d hoped, Noctis wasn’t ready for the sight of Prompto when he emerged from the tent. Noct sat at a nearby picnic table, practicing drawing his sword from his magics, as it seemed less of a reflex now as it was in the old days on the road. He looked up to see Prompto shoving a hand through his hair absentmindedly; the simple gesture made Noct’s heart flutter, and he wished he’d better prepared his lungs for this. He managed to take in the breath that had gotten stuck mid-inhale, and Prompto gave a smile as he noticed his enamoured gaze.

Prompto was dressed in a brown hunter’s vest with a dark teal t-shirt peeking out from underneath. He wore a pair of tight-fitting jeans that were light in colour, but darker along the sides of the legs. A white belt adorned his waist, and a second belt sat slanted over it, coming down around his right hip and securing a pouch there. On his left knee was a black bracer, and his footwear consisted of a pair of short, black lace-up boots that came up over his jeans; Noctis knew from Prompto’s old photos that he sometimes switched them out for Kingsglaive-issued boots.

“Wow, you look...” Noct trailed off, the words getting lost in his throat as Prompto approached him. Strong arms laced around his neck, and Prompto came to stand in the space between his legs where he sat atop the picnic table.

“Amazing? Stunning? Radiant?” Prompto asked with a teasing smile, tossing his head to the side.

“Incredibly badass,” Noct finished for him. He lowered his head, while keeping his sheepish gaze locked with his partner’s. “And also very sexy.”

“Yeah?” Prompto murmured, weaving his fingers into the back of Noctis’ hair as they pressed their lips together. Noctis reminded himself that he couldn’t give into temptation, even though it was getting harder the longer they refrained from indulging in each other. Thankfully, Prompto put a stop to the moment before he had to do so himself.

“Oh, hey, before we head out, you wouldn’t happen to still have my dog tags with you, would you?”

Noctis timidly lowered his head, and reached for the tags that had been hidden beneath his shirt.

“I’ll be honest. I never leave home without ‘em.”

He raised the cord and unclasped it, handing it over to his companion, who gave him an endearing look; he was touched to know that Noctis still wore them so close to his heart, even after all this time. Graciously, he took them and laced them around his own neck.

“I promise, I’ll give ‘em back once we’re done hunting. But just in case something happens out there—”

“Nothing’s going to happen out there,” Noctis quickly interrupted. He folded his arms, giving Prompto the sign that he shouldn’t even consider arguing. “If there was even a chance that I thought we wouldn’t make it back, I wouldn’t have been nearly so agreeable,” Noct smirked. “But you remember how we always used to have each other’s backs in battle? I don’t think we’ve lost that dynamic, do you?”

“I doubt it,” Prompto smiled in agreement, lifting his hand and pulling from Noct’s magics to summon his gun. He held it in his hand, looking over the now corporeal object and brushing a thumb over its metal.

“And I promise, I won’t be an ass like I was in Accalia,” Noctis said, and Prompto chuckled softly. Of course, he hadn’t forgotten the way Noctis had tried to shut him out during that battle with the Zu, nor the way Noctis had tried to take on the man from the Relicta on his own, and ended up getting himself hurt. It was a mistake Prompto wouldn’t let either of them repeat; they had to count on each other.

“Then I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Prompto smirked. He proceeded over to the main hunter’s tent, with Noct at his heels. Inside, hunters were picking out rations, equipment, and healing items for the trek. At one table was a box of metal dog tags like Prompto’s, but they were blank. He picked out two blanks for Noctis, and placed them in his open palm.

“You can engrave them on this machine over here,” Prompto instructed, as he guided Noctis over to the outdated-looking machine, encased in yellowed and dark green plastic. He placed one piece of metal into the bottom tray, and pressed the letter keys to insert his information.

_Noctis Lucis Caelum_

_ Home Base: Meldacio_

He pressed the start button, and the tray slowly moved inside the small, square machine. It was a bit noisy as it carved the words into the metal, but after a few seconds, it ejected the tray. Noctis picked up the tag and was impressed to see the letters he’d chosen, all neatly carved into it.

“What should I do for the next one?” Noctis asked.

“Well, you’re definitely a five-star ranking fighter. And for your identification, you can either choose your own, or click ‘Get Next Available Number’. But you have to memorize it, so keep that in mind,” Prompto explained. Noctis pondered for a moment, then turned to Prompto with a curious expression.

“Is it alright if I use your barcode, too? Maybe just change a number or two?” Noctis asked.

“Um, sure,” Prompto blinked.

“It’s a number _I _remember easily, too. And it means something to me. So, if that’s okay…”

Prompto gave him a tender smile, heart warming.

“Of course, that’s okay.”

“Okay,” Noctis nodded, smiling back gratefully. He brought his index fingers back to the round buttons on the front of the machine, and watched as the letters, numbers, and symbols he selected appeared on the screen.

_Fighter Rank: *****_

_ Identification No.: 05953233_

“There,” Noct announced. “I’ll just change that last digit to a three instead of a four.”

“That works,” Prompto said, as Noctis inserted the second piece of metal and pressed the start button again.  
  
This tag came out just as perfectly as the last, and he retrieved it from the tray, eyeing it proudly. He looked up to see Prompto holding out a cord for him. He took it and slipped the tags onto it before fastening it around his neck. Prompto stepped in close, and reached for the tags, brushing his fingertips over the engraving of Noctis’ name.

“There,” he hummed, contentedly. “You’re a hunter now, too.”

“Yeah,” Noctis breathed, watching Prompto’s eyes travel over the engravings, fingers delicate against his chest. Noctis reached up to gently clasp his hand, holding it there.

“You were really brave back then, when you decided not only to use your barcode for your identification, but also when you wore that mark out in the open,” Noct acknowledged.

“Well, like I said before, the world was kind of changing, and I realized life was too short to live in fear,” Prompto shrugged, eyes locked with Noctis’.

“Yeah, but you still _risked _it. You still put yourself out there even though there was a chance you wouldn’t be accepted.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Prompto still didn’t know exactly what Noctis was getting at, and he let him know with a quirked brow.

“Look,” Noct started, slipping his other hand underneath Prompto’s, sandwiching it safely between his own two. “I know what Ignis told you a while back made you scared of how the world might view us, but it’s the same sort of thing. There’s always a chance we won’t be accepted by everyone, but it’s still important to take the risk, don’t you think?” Noct tried, hoping he would see the similarity. “You weren’t scared when you were a hunter, so maybe you shouldn’t be so scared now, either. Your origins haven’t changed.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Prompto said, considering, though he still wasn’t sure why Noctis would bring this up now.

A loud buzz rang out through the camp, alerting the hunters that the next truck would be leaving soon. Prompto retrieved his phone from his pocket to check the time.

“Thirteen hundred hours. That’s us. We’d better go.”

Noctis reluctantly released his hand, giving him a soft and somewhat longing smile as Prompto put his phone away.

“You ready?” Prompto grinned.

“Yeah,” Noct agreed, following him out from under the canopy.

* * *

Prompto did most of the talking as he, Noct, and the hunters travelled toward the Vesperpool in the back of the truck. Noctis added to the conversation with nods and polite smiles when someone would look his way, but he mostly listened intently to the stories from that time that still fascinated him.

The hunters seemed to enjoy both listening and contributing to Prompto’s reminiscing of the old days, and Noctis tried to picture it all in his mind—the stories of Prompto saving children from burning buildings, rescuing families who had barricaded themselves inside sheds for safety, using the medical skills Ignis had taught him as he’d bandaged up the broken leg of one of his comrades. Noctis wished he’d been a part of it, that he could have seen that heroic Prompto in action, but he was grateful to be here now, as it made him feel like he wasn’t so much an outsider to Prompto’s past.

“Guess you don’t see that kind of action these days, huh?” a hunter named Delilah asked, hands resting on her knees as she sat atop one of the crates in the back of the truck.

“Well, not so much in the Citadel, but I can’t say Noct and I haven’t been in danger a few times this past while,” Prompto chuckled, eyes darting to Noctis, who gave a wide-eyed nod of agreement.

“Oh, hey, there’s one! Action time!” Castor shouted, and he and the hunters barelled out of the truck, hands gripping onto the sides of the vehicle and hopping over onto the ground. Noctis watched them in surprise.

“These people are the toughest,” Prompto grinned, as Noctis turned his shocked gaze toward him. Prompto stood and offered Noct a hand.

“We could always warp instead,” Prompto continued to smile. Noctis accepted his hand and stood, smirking.

“Nah, I’m up for the challenge.” He followed the hunters’ lead, and pushed his palm hard against the side of the truck before hauling himself over. He landed hard on his ankles, but the pain didn’t last long. Prompto followed after him with a proud grin.

“I knew you’d make a great hunter.”

“Prompto, Your Majesty! This way!” Castor called, and the two men jogged to reach the spot where the others had landed. “You two head west, we’ll take the east. Let’s make sure to clear the whole road.”

“Got it,” Prompto agreed, as Delilah, Yura, and Castor took off running toward the sahagin they had seen from the truck. Prompto gave a wave toward Noct, coaxing him along as he took off at a jog down the gravelly path.

“Come on, buddy.”

Noct followed obediently, jogging leisurely alongside Prompto, and breathing in the fresh air. The Vesperpool smelled like it always had—the natural scents of grass and trees, mixed with the scent of lake water. To the right of the path, Noct noticed the chocobo rental stand that they had used frequently during their journey all those years ago.

“Feels a little weird to be back here.”

“Yeah. Like another lifetime, huh? But I guess it’s even weirder for you than it is for me,” Prompto said. It hadn’t been so long ago that he’d been here with the hunters, but it still seemed strange to be back here with Noctis now. He could still remember following him around for hours as he’d tried to find every optimal fishing spot the lake had to offer.

“It_ is_ strange. Back then, Specs still had his vision, I was just a kid obsessed with fishing, you were still as carefree as always, snapping pictures,” Noct said, brows pinched into a woeful look as he gazed out over the hillside to their right.

“Hey, I’ll still snap some pictures, if you want,” Prompto grinned, not wanting to let that sadness in Noct’s eyes linger. “Maybe we could come back out here later. You could fish, I could watch and take some shots?”

“Yeah,” Noct smiled, glancing to his left now to witness Prompto’s cheerful expression. “That sounds nice.”

“But for now, we’d better focus on scouting for sahagins. Gotta herd ‘em back towards the lake.”

“What do you mean ‘herd’ them?” Noctis asked.  
  
Prompto reached for his pouch and withdrew a small stick covered in braided black leather. To Noct’s surprise, Prompto waved it through the air in a downward slice, which made two more sections slide out from within it, elongating it into what was about two feet in length. Prompto then proceeded to unweave the thin cord that was wrapped around its end.

“What the hell is that? A retractable whip?” Noctis leaned over to investigate, watching as Prompto succeded in untangling the cord from the whip itself.

“Yep.”

“You’re going to whip a sahagin? That sounds like a great way to get bitten,” Noct muttered, scrunching up his nose.

“You don’t actually whip them. You snap it behind them, low to the ground, and they think it’s a predator, so they move,” Prompto explained, twirling the string in a quick circle before giving a flick of his wrist, making the cord snap loud enough to make Noctis jump a little.

“Wow, that’d be enough to make _me_ move,” Noct awed.

“Yeah. We don’t actually want to reduce the population, so we try and get them back to where they’re supposed to be instead of annihilating them. It doesn’t always work, though, so if one of ‘em does get hostile, that’s when the weapons come out,” Prompto said, raising his other hand to summon his gun.  
  
Noctis closed his eyes to revel in the feel of Prompto borrowing from his power, enjoying that gentle tug as much as ever. When he opened his eyes, he took in the sight of Prompto staring down at his gun proudly. He looked so strong, so handsome, so _healthy_. Noctis swallowed hard.

“Come on. I’ll do the herding, you be at the ready if things go awry, yeah?” Prompto asked, and Noct nodded, shaking any foreboding thoughts away.

He eagerly followed Prompto down the road until they were on the trail of a sahagin. Prompto crept quietly as they gained on it, and when he was just about on its heels, he snapped his whip just behind its tail. The creature gave a wild squeal before it hastened its pace, waddling hurriedly down the road. A sharp whistle shot from Prompto’s lips, making the creature’s four webbed feet travel even faster before the whip sounded again.

Noctis stayed close by, flanking it from the side, but far enough away that he didn’t get caught in the sahagin’s peripheral. They continued on like this for several minutes, with Prompto whistling that same short, shrill pitch, and keeping the whip cracking. Prompto suddenly caught sight of movement just beyond Noctis, moving too rapidly to plan any sort of pre-emptive attack.

“Noct! Another one!” Prompto shouted, and Noctis glanced to his left to see a second sahagin on his side of the road, its teeth bared and snarling as it launched itself at him.

“Nooooct!” Prompto screamed, the hoarse sound of it as familiar as it was during those days on the road with Ignis and Gladio. Noctis had always hated hearing Prompto so scared, so worried for him, even now as he was tackled to the ground by the sahagin. He let out a grunt as the creature tried to bite at his face, but he managed to get a leg under its belly and kick it hard enough to send it flying off of him, but not without a sharp pain shooting through his hip.

The next thing he was aware of was the sound of Prompto’s gunshots, and by the time he’d clambered to his feet, Prompto had the thing stunned on the ground before him. Noctis glanced over at him, confirming that he still had his own sahagin under control. Of course, he did, even if the situation had shifted. It seemed Prompto’s sahagin had grown hostile after seeing its kin being treated so violently, but Prompto had his whip around its neck, and a foot on its tail, keeping it immobile for the time being.

“Take this one out?” Noct called, drawing his sword immediately, and meeting Prompto’s gaze for permission.

“Yeah, can’t save that one! Go!” Prompto instructed, and Noctis warpstriked forward, pinning the sahagin as it struggled on its back. He felt a little sorry for it as its waving limbs went still beneath him. Slowly, he withdrew his blade, and got to his feet, staring at the poor creature as its carcass began to fade back into the earth.

“A little help here?” Prompto called out, and Noctis hurried over to him, sword at the ready, and Prompto lifted his foot off of the thing’s tail. Immediately, it launched forward, but nearly choked itself thanks to the whip around its neck.

“Get ready. This could turn ugly,” Prompto warned his companion.

“I’m ready.”

In one slick movement, Prompto crouched over the creature, hands reaching out for the whip, and the sahagin began to squeal and snap like it was being tortured. As if completely unfazed, Prompto whistled again, this time holding the note the entire time as he unwrapped the cord from around the creature’s neck. The sahagin stayed completely still until the cord was gone and Prompto stood again. As soon as he ceased his whistle, the sahagin’s eyes seemed to light up with anger, but Prompto merely snapped his whip before the creature even considered turning on him.

The sahagin took off running down the road, and Prompto ran after it at a dead tear, snapping the whip when it so much as turned its head to try and look at him. Noctis watched in amazement as it skittered down the path to the Vesperpool, Prompto chasing after it for a few more strides until he was confident it wouldn’t return. He gave one last loud whistle as a warning before proceeding back up the gravel path to reconvene with Noctis.

“Um, wow. I don’t even know what to say. You handled yourself like a pro,” the king marvelled, gazing at Prompto with a seriousness in his eyes, but there was obvious amazement, too. Prompto smiled, lowering his head and chuckling sheepishly.

“It’s all part of the gig. I got pretty used to it back in the day.” Prompto wiped his forehead with a swipe of his arm, and Noctis watched him with intrigue, like he was seeing another side of him. He’d known Prompto was strong, strong in so many ways, but to see him in action like this was breathtaking.

“What’s with the whistling?”

“They can’t stand the frequency. They’ll run from it to protect their ears, but if they’re too close to the sound, it sort of just paralyzes them for a while,” Prompto explained.

“You’re amazing,” Noctis murmured, the words escaping him before he’d had time to think them. Prompto’s mouth popped open in gentle surprise, then he smiled. He took a step closer and reached for Noct’s waist, only to be shocked by a dampness.

“A-and... _You’re bleeding_!”

Noctis glanced down with as much shock as Prompto had, and noticed the dark red stain that swept across the front of his abdomen.

“I... I didn’t even notice getting hurt,” he assured Prompto, who was already on a mission to make this better. Prompto tugged Noctis’ shirt up to see the injury. The blood had smeared enough to make it look worse than it actually was, but even at a glance, Prompto could see where the wound originated.

“It’s your wound from Accordo. The sahagin must have scratched you, and it opened up a little. Here. Hold this, will you?” Prompto asked, keeping his eyes on the injury, never bothering to look up.  
  
Noctis did as he was told, and held the hem of his shirt up out of the way so Prompto could do his work. He bit back a sigh; so much for wearing Prompto’s old hunter shirt. This time, it probably couldn’t be salvaged. He supposed he would just have to steal another one.

“Prompto!” Castor shouted, and Prompto leaned over to glance beyond Noctis, seeing his hunt leader hurrying towards them. “Heard the ruckus. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine!” he hollered back as he reached into his pouch again, retrieving a small medical kit. Noctis flushed slightly as Castor reached them. The hunter’s eyes travelled to the king’s bloodied abdomen, then back and forth between the two men.

“An old wound,” Prompto clarified, carefully slipping his bloodied hands into a pair of sterile gloves from the kit.

“Your Majesty, perhaps you would be more comfortable over here,” Castor offered, gingerly resting a hand on Noctis’ back and guiding him over to one of the rocks along the side of the road. Noct did a quick check for sahagins before letting himself relax and rest his back against one of the rocks.

“Thank you, Castor,” he hummed, as Prompto knelt before him.

“I’m just gonna clean this. It might sting a little,” Prompto said, glancing up at Noct with apology before pressing an alcohol swab to the top of the cut. Noctis closed his eyes tightly and bit back a curse.

“Sorry,” Prompto whispered, as he wiped away the blood. Hoping to distract the king from his discomfort, Castor folded his arms and stepped to the side.

“Say, did Prompto ever tell you how he got _his _scars?”

Noctis pried his eyes open to see the timid look Prompto was giving him before his eyes flickered away again. His mind raced back to the long, thick claw marks that marred Prompto’s torso.

“No, I’m afraid he never told me in detail,” Noct said through gritted teeth, as the sting of the alcohol sunk into the wound. He clearly remembered Prompto telling him a coeurl had been the cause of those marks, but he’d never been given the full story.

“Heh, we don’t need to get into that,” Prompto laughed, grinning shyly. He set the swab aside and reached back into the tiny kit on the ground.

“Is that a needle?” Noct asked, wide-eyed.

“’Fraid so,” Castor said.

“Then hell yeah, tell me the story. I’m gonna need a distraction,” Noctis insisted, as Prompto threaded the needle and knotted the end.

“It’s only gonna be a few stitches, just so it can heal,” Prompto promised, but Noctis practically glared at him. He trusted Prompto, but he couldn’t say he was all that keen on finding out how good his medical skills were.

“You sure a potion can’t take care of this instead? Or some healing magic?”

“Those things come after. For a cut this deep, it’s better to sew it up first, and then use curatives to help the skin mend itself back together. You know that,” Prompto smiled. Castor nodded in agreement before the pager in his pocket beeped. He dug it out quickly and scanned it before hurrying toward the road.

“It’s the others. I’ll be back to check on you!” he called, running off to help the other half of their crew. Prompto drew his gaze to Noctis’ nervous face, not daring to proceed until Noct was ready.

“When you feel comfortable, can you lie down for me?”

“O-oh,” Noct stuttered, both anxious and flustered as he pushed himself away from the rock and lowered himself to the ground.  
  
He felt so vulnerable lying there on the side of the road, with his shirt pulled up to his chest, and Prompto hovering over him, but he reminded himself that Prompto had probably done this a hundred times over during his time with the hunters. Hell, judging by the marks on his stomach, he’d probably been on the receiving end of this treatment, too.

“You want to take my pouch for under your head? Probably softer than the gravel,” Prompto offered, with a small smile.

“It’s fine,” Noct shrugged. He’d had worse pillows—metal park benches, the cobblestone paths in the Citadel gardens, all the places he’d accidentally fallen asleep and probably shouldn’t have. Despite his answer, Prompto still unclipped his suede pouch from his hip, and eased it under his head; it did feel a lot better.

“Just relax, okay? I promise, it won’t take long.”

“Don’t rush, either,” Noct muttered, not wanting Prompto to make any mistakes when needles were involved, but Prompto merely chuckled, the sound of which put Noctis at ease.

“I won’t.”  
  
Prompto’s touch was gentle as he pressed a damp, gloved finger to the top of Noctis’ injury, and Noct could feel the cool rush of a potion, the tiny dose of healing just enough to numb his skin. After a moment, he felt the pressure shift, and he felt the small prick of the needle, but it was bearable; the potion had saved him from most of the pain.

Noct could feel a slight tug, and then another small stab, but he kept his eyes focused on Prompto’s face—on his concentrated but gentle expression; on that strong, firmly set jaw that made him look like he could take on any hunt and come out on top.

“So, that story about your scars? Are you gonna tell me?” Noctis tried, keeping his eyes on Prompto’s lips as they curved into a smile.

“You’re really that curious, huh?”

“I’m letting you stick me with a needle right now. You owe me.”

Prompto laughed heartily before letting out a sigh.

“Fae tells it better.”

“That’s okay. I wanna hear it from you,” Noct assured him, with a soft smile.

“Alright then,” Prompto started.

* * *

_“You sleep okay last night?” Fae’s voice broke the silence, thankfully interrupting some very dark thoughts. Prompto looked up into bright green eyes, worry written all over the young girl’s face as she watched him. They sat in the back of the truck that would transport them to their next mission. _ _The few_ _ glaives _ _that_ _ accompanied them had been talking amongst themselves pretty much since they’d left Lestallum.  
  
Prompto had been drifting in and out of sleep, as he was completely exhausted from a night of horrid dreams, but even now when he closed his eyes, visions of those dreams resurfaced—visions of Noct stuck in the crystal, screaming to be let out, broken and in pain; visions of Prompto finding his cold, dead body _ _once the crystal set him free_ _, too late for any curatives to save him._

_ “Not really,” Prompto shook his head, but he forced a smile for Fae’s sake. The girl could certainly hold her own, and he knew she was tough enough that he didn’t have to hide any harsh truths from her, but still... she was only fifteen. It didn’t seem fair to burden her with his troubles. _

_“_ _You know, you can sit this one out if you need to. The other guys and I can handle a few coeurls,” the girl offered._

_ “Nah, I’ll be fine.”_

_Fae nodded, and averted her gaze, watching the road ahead as the truck drove onward. Prompto was thankful to have found a friend out here. He’d hit it off with a lot of hunters he’d met, but he’d developed quite a soft spot for this young glaive whose situation reminded him of his own; they’d both experienced a lot of loss. _

_ He’d taken her under his wing, not because she needed the protection, but because she had given him a sense of purpose that he’d been missing ever since he’d lost Noct. He’d needed that sense of purpose to keep going, especially on his darkest days when continuing the fight seemed futile._

_ It wasn’t long before the group arrived at their destination, and the glaives poured out of the truck. They trotted up the hill towards the archway outside the Tomb of the Tall, and the monsters emerged almost immediately. Giant felines leapt out from behind bushes and from within tall grass—growling, roaring, pawing and biting. They were ferocious and hungry, and the glaives were careful not to turn their backs on the creatures as they fought to strike them down. They were prepared to borrow the king’s magic at the drop of a hat, switching weapons and warping themselves out of harm’s way._

_ Fae stared down a coeurl, both of them circling warily around each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. The coeurl was the first to finally attack, and it launched itself at the young girl with a violent growl. Fae warped to the side, and the cat tossed its head in fury when it realized it had missed its target. The girl warped back in just as quickly, giving the coeurl a good whack with her shield._

_ Prompto was busy fighting alongside one of the other men, shooting one of the coeurls and stunning it enough so that it couldn’t zap them with its lightning magic. The man took advantage of the opportunity and kept a close range, jabbing and swiping with his katana._

_ They heard a cry from somewhere else on the battlefield, and Prompto looked to see another glaive was badly wounded. He was on his knees, clutching his opposite shoulder, which was shimmering with a thick coat of blood. Prompto ran to his aid and stuck his arms out to the sides, feeling the cooling sensation of healing magics take over. This new and foreign healing magic was something no one had been able to use before the king had vanished. _

_ He watched the green glow flood from his hands and into the the surrounding earth, reaching the wounded glaive and mending some of the damage. The man nodded a thank you and clambered back to his feet. Prompto gave him an extra dose of healing just to be sure he was okay, then watched him run back into the fray._

_ It didn’t take long for the group to see that they were unevenly matched. There were far too many coeurls for the glaives to hold off on their own. It became more and more difficult to keep from being attacked from behind, and the number of painful bites and scratches were adding up. After a long while of fighting and having more coeurls emerge, the warriors’ stamina faded. _

“_Should we retreat?” __Yura__ called out._

“_No. They would follow us, and we’d be putting the __driver__ in danger!” __Nelly__ called back, nodding toward the truck still parked waiting for them at the side of the road. Prompto almost wanted to make them reconsider. He was really beginning to feel faint._

_ A holler for help was heard in the distance, and Prompto paused to listen. Another call followed, and his eyes travelled in the direction from where it had come. “There are people trapped inside!” Prompto called out, voice panicked as he charged toward the royal tomb._

_ As he reached the door, he was disheartened by the sound of a child crying, and the voices of a man and woman trying to calm her._

“_I’ll get you out __as soon as it’s safe!__ Try not to panic,” Prompto yelled through the door. He knew he couldn’t risk __rescuing__ them until the coeurls were taken care of, but he wanted __them to know that help was on the way__. How did Noct used to open these things? He’d had a key, right? That was probably long gone by now. Prompto would have to use his lock pick._

_ “Prompto!” Fae shouted, and Prompto let out a cry as he felt a deep pain tear into his side. The coeurl had come from somewhere to his right, and he was pushed to the ground in an instant.  
  
He remained on his side as he fell, his body still frozen and in shock as he lay there, the coeurl still on top of him with its claws curled into his gut. He coughed out a weak noise, and wished he could remember how to use his arms to push the damn creature off of him, but he couldn’t._

_ Footsteps charged towards him, and Yura grabbed the coeurl around the middle, pulling it backwards off of Prompto, and falling to the ground with it. Prompto tilted his head back with a quiet gasp of relief as the pressure of the coeurl’s giant paw was released. He could hear the fight continuing on, with its clinking of metal and swishes of magic._

_ He soon heard more footsteps, and Fae dropped to her knees beside him, reaching gently for his shoulders, holding him still while she got a better look at the damage. Prompto’s eyes were glassy and distant as they stared up at the sky above him._

_ “Prompto,” Fae murmured, eyeing the three long slashes in the man’s hunter’s vest, his pale white hand pressed against what looked like the deepest section of gashes.  
  
Blood seemed to emerge with each beat of his pulse, and Fae promised herself she wouldn’t get sick—at least not until Prompto was out of the woods. She glanced at his unfocused eyes, but could tell he wasn’t in a state to meet her gaze. She wasn’t even sure if he could hear or feel her there, but she had to at least try to let him know he wasn’t alone._

_ “Prompto, I need to move your hand so I can get a better look, okay?”_

_Prompto blinked, Fae’s request barely reaching him, but he knew she needed_ something_ from him, so he tried to oblige—until he realized what that something was. He felt a hand on his, trying to lift it away from where the pain was radiating, but he resisted to the best of his ability, feeling like he might just fall apart if he didn’t hold his skin together. He was too weak, however, to fight Fae for long, and she removed his bloodied hand, placing it gently at his side. She pressed the back of her hand to her lips at the sight of the injuries, but reminded herself not to let this sight get the better of her._

_ She pushed her arms out to the sides, summoning her magic, only to find that she was still drained from her last few spells. She tried again anyway, and groaned at the feeling of strain on her limbs; there was no magic left in her._

_ “I’m out of MP!” she shouted. “Help!”_

“_We’re out, too!” the other glaives hollered back._

_ Fae sucked in a terrified, trembling breath, and was thankful when even that bit of oxygen gave her the clarity she needed to weigh her options. She could try to help Prompto back to the truck, as they were both sitting ducks out here, but there was always the chance that they’d draw more attention to themselves if they tried to move. The coeurls would be on top of such slow-moving targets in no time. She could also try to drag him away from the battle, maybe behind a bush where she could try to recover her magic, but the animals would smell the blood. The only other option... _

_ Fae glanced up at the archway a few feet away. It looked wide enough on top to support them, but what were the chances she could warp up there with Prompto? Would it be too much on him? She would also have to warp him back down, and she wasn’t sure his body could handle it. And of course, she would still have to wait until her magic was replenished before she even _tried _to warp._

_ Prompto coughed again, and this time, blood trickled from his mouth, down his lip._

“_No, no, no,” Fae panicked. “Prompto, hang on!”_

_ Her __hands reached for his shoulders, shaking him gently as she tried __to keep him with her, but his gaze was still skyward, his eyes hazy. Prompto could just barely __feel the pressure of her hands on his stomach, frantically trying to st__aunch__ the bleeding. He could just __make out the cries of his name as he was welcomed by unconsciousness._ Noct_, he thought to himself as darkness took him._

* * *

_ Prompto woke up a day later, canopied by the familiar canvas of his tent. He was about to sit up when the slightest movement sent a searing pain through his abdomen. He stifled a noise, and heard a gasp in response._

_ “You’re awake!” He turned his head to the side to see Fae sitting in the corner of the tent beside him, one arm draped over her knee as it was propped up against her chest. Prompto frowned at the sight of her upper arm, which was bandaged in white cloth._

_ “Y-you got hurt?” he asked, startling himself with how hoarse his voice was._

“_Barely,” she smirked, moving to kneel next to Prompto, her hand pointing towards his injuries. “You, on the other hand...”_

_ “The... coeurls?” he asked slowly, like he was having trouble remembering. Fae nodded. “After you passed out, reinforcements showed up. The truck driver saw that we were in trouble and called for backup. We managed to get you back here, and got you stitched up.”  
  
Prompto lifted a tired hand and reached for the sleeping bag that was resting along his waist. He pushed it down, discovering white bandages around his bare torso, from below his chest down to his hips._

_ “I’m sorry we couldn’t do a better job. If we’d had any magic left in us, you probably would have gotten away without any lingering signs of damage, but I’m afraid you’re gonna have some pretty nasty scars,” Fae lamented.  
  
Prompto let out a soft chuckle, his fingers grazing lightly over the bandage. He remembered how the ladies used to fawn over Gladio’s old war wounds; there were worse burdens to live with._

_ “It’s okay. Scars can be kind of cool,” he smiled._

* * *

“And now you know,” Prompto announced, hands reaching for the scissors and cutting the excess thread. Noctis blinked in surprise as he realized Prompto had finished his work, and he lifted his head enough to see the neat row of stitches. It seemed Prompto really did know what he was doing.

Prompto set the scissors back in the medical kit before grazing a gloved finger along the side of Noctis’ scar. Noct gave an appreciative hum, breath hitching a little at the contact that was no longer intended for healing, but rather for pleasure.

“Scars _can _be kind of cool, huh?” Noct said, repeating the line from the story. Prompto smirked and leaned forward to meet his lips.

“You bet,” he whispered. He pulled back, allowing Noctis to finally sit up again as he discarded the latex gloves and started putting away the rest of the supplies. Prompto handed him the remains of the potion before closing the kit.

“Here. Just in case it’s a little sore,” he offered. Noctis took the potion with a grateful smile.

“Thanks.”

“You okay to keep going? Or you wanna call it quits?”

“I’m fine. I want to keep going,” Noct assured him.

Prompto helped him to his feet, and they continued on down the road. By the time they finished scanning the end of their assigned stretch of land, Castor and the others returned to pick them up. They clambered into the back of the truck, sitting side-by-side, pressed together from their shoulders to their knees.  
  
Prompto found himself thinking about their earlier conversation in the tent before they’d set out, still wondering what Noctis might have meant when he’d been talking about self-acceptance. Wanting him to know that he _was _proud of them, and that he _did _want him to belong in this part of his life, Prompto brazenly reached for his hand, where they remained clasped together in plain sight for the remainder of the drive.

* * *

“I think I’m out of shape,” Noctis chuckled, as they stumbled into their tent that night. “A day of hunting used to be nothing. Now look at me.” He collapsed on his sleeping bag, one leg staying awkwardly up in the air as he fell onto his back, his strained hip too sore to lower at the moment. Prompto gave a hearty laugh and zipped the tent door behind them.

After their initial hunt, they had driven to Old Lestallum and walked most of the way back to the Vesperpool, herding any straggling sahagins back towards their home. It had been a long, tense, and exhausting trek, and Noct was looking forward to taking a load off for a while.

“You _are _looking a little sore, dude. Not to mention grubby.” Noctis frowned, and rubbed viciously at his face; he’d been suspicious that there was some mud caked onto his cheek earlier, but he hadn’t found a mirror anywhere to confirm.

“It’s cool. You look sorta cute with all that dirt on you,” Prompto grinned.

“Oh yeah?”

“Totally. And don’t think I didn’t see _you _checking _me _out earlier either. What is it that you like, Noct? The rugged attire? The tight jeans?” he teased.

“I think ‘Prompto the hunter’ is kind of hot in general,” Noct smirked.

“Really?” Prompto seductively mused, and he crawled into the tent, clambering onto Noctis to straddle his waist. Noctis let out a sharp hiss at the contact that was a little too good. Prompto’s hands curled into the front of his shirt, and he leaned over to kiss him, the motion of which made Noctis squirm beneath him.

“Feel like I’m about to die happy,” Noctis whispered, breathlessly, his hands wandering up to rest on Prompto’s lower back.

“Don’t you worry. Prompto the hunter won’t shoot to kill. Only stun,” Prompto teased, lips just inches from Noct’s as they spoke, but the distance was closed immediately after. Prompto’s heart pounded at the thought that something might actually happen tonight. Maybe the time apart was finally getting to Noct, too.

Prompto rocked forward a little, prying a desperate whine out of Noctis, who thanked him for the contact with a kiss against his neck. Prompto tilted his head back, giving him room to explore to his heart’s content. Both made a disgruntled noise as Noctis’ phone vibrated. Prompto was a little irritated when Noctis let go of him to dig the device out of his pocket.

“Just turn it off,” he whispered, but Noctis looked at the screen, and shook his head.

“Sorry, it’s Cor. I’ve gotta take this.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”  
  
Noctis waved Prompto off of him, and Prompto obeyed, climbing off of him and sitting on the floor dejectedly as the king got up and hurried out of the tent to take the call. Prompto pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his elbows on them, burying his face in against his arms. He couldn’t help but feel this was another convenient excuse to keep things from going any further. He wished it didn’t make him feel so broken. Thankfully, Prompto didn’t have long to dwell on those thoughts as Noctis returned, entering the tent quietly and zipping it closed behind him.

“What was that about?”

“He just had a quick question about the glaives. Nothing to worry about,” Noctis said, as he came to sit down again. He turned off his phone screen and stuffed it back in his pocket. “Smells like they’ve got something good cooking out there. You want to grab a bite of supper before we turn in for the night?”

“Or... we could continue where we left off,” Prompto tried, though his attempt at a flirty smile fell drastically short. Noctis could see the regret in his eyes, and yet, he was torn as to what he should do next.

“I thought you might want to eat while your friends are gathered out there,” Noct shrugged innocently. Not far off, the hunters were huddled around a campfire, sharing stories over drinks and a hearty meal.

“I’m actually a little more interested in _you_,” Prompto said, giving a shrug of his own, his lips finally managing to twist into a tiny smile, but Noctis came nowhere near reciprocating it. He merely sat there rubbing his arm awkwardly, eyes on the floor beside him.

“Oh. A-alright then,” Prompto said, numbly, averting his gaze. It was a little embarrassing, coming onto Noct so strongly, only to be turned away. Again.

“Prompto—”  
  
“No, you’re right. I’m hungry, anyway,” he fibbed, failing to disguise the hurt in his voice as it broke. Noctis’ hand shot out to grasp his own. Prompto stared down at the long slender fingers that gently brushed against the back of his hand.

“Prompto, let’s just talk about this, okay?” Noct prodded, not wanting to leave things on an unsavoury note. Prompto didn’t look like he wanted to talk, with his gaze pointed toward the floor and his expression stoic, but after a moment, he decided to open up.

“Alright, I just... I miss the way you used to be all over me,” Prompto admitted, the corner of his mouth lifting up into a weak smile. “And you’ve been flirting with me all day, but it’s kinda disappointing when you don’t let it lead anywhere.”

“But you know why, Prompto. It’s not that I don’t _want _you. Because, believe me, I do,” Noctis tried to convince him. Prompto was silent for a moment while he gathered his thoughts.

“I just kind of feel like I’m getting mixed messages. On my birthday, you said you didn’t want me to feel like I was something that needed protecting, and yet, here we are. You won’t even get close to me, you’re so protective of me.”

“W-well...” Noct stuttered, abashed as he realized the truth of that statement. Prompto waved a hand energetically in the air.

“And don’t get me wrong. It’s endearing, but... It’s not the way I want us to have to live.”

“And... how would _you_ have us live?” Noct carefully inquired.

“Well, after you first found out, you promised you would do whatever I wanted—whatever I needed. I need _you_, Noct. So please, just let me be close to you. We don’t have to go all the way, if you’re _that_ worried. I just...”

“Prompto,” Noctis halted him, voice firm, but caring. He wanted his full attention, and he got it. “I meant all those things I said. I did. But even if we didn’t go all the way, I... I would still worry about putting strain on your lungs. Or on your heart,” he said, the last part coming out in a feeble whisper as he reached out to trace his fingers over Prompto’s chest, making Prompto settle under his touch. That was when Prompto realized they were both fighting tears—he could feel the tightness in his throat, could see the shimmer in Noct’s eyes.

Prompto shivered under Noctis’ touch, sending goosebumps down his arms and legs. Noctis didn’t have to reassure Prompto that he was setting these boundaries out of love for him; Prompto could feel it all in that reverant touch, the way Noctis wanted to protect that heart, the way he wanted to keep it beating for as long as he could.

“I keep thinking of something we learned in biology class. Animals that were born as a result of cloning often ran into issues with their vital organs, and I... I know it might not be exactly the same, but I’m still _scared _for you,” Noct admitted in a whisper.  
  
“I know, Noct, but five minutes ago you were into me. Everything was fine, but as soon as you had a minute to clear your head, you didn’t want to—”

“Because when it comes right down to it, Prompto... I actually get sick to my stomach because something doesn’t feel right. I’m terrified of doing something to hurt you, and I don’t know if I should fight against something that makes me feel that way,” Noctis said, voice pleading. “You can understand that, right?”

“Yeah,” Prompto whispered after a long pause, and Noctis smiled slightly in surprise and relief. “I get it, but... This is part of the reason why I didn’t want to tell you the truth, Noct. I didn’t want things to change. I didn’t want you constantly worrying about me, and—”

“And?”

“It makes me wish I’d never told you.” The words came out on impulse, and Prompto instantly regretted them when he saw the wounded look in Noct’s eyes.  
  
Noctis felt like he’d been caught in a field of ice magic, like in the old days when his allies would throw a spell in the middle of battle, and he accidentally got caught in the crossfire. His body was frozen, taken over by a numbing cold. Those words stung, almost as much as the truth of his condition itself.

“Don’t say that. Please,” Noct begged, eyes twitching with emotion. Prompto hesitated. Should he take the words back, or was it better to be honest? Was it better to let Noct know how truly damaging it was to be treated like he was already dying?

“If I hadn’t told you, things would still be the way they were, right?”

“Prompto, please.” Noct’s vision was blurring even more now.

“I’ve already had to live ten years without you, without these hands,” Prompto said, meekly, bringing Noct’s hands down to rest between them, his fingers brushing lightly over the king’s knuckles. He wished those hands would just reach out and touch him—rough and roaming, touching as if he _wasn’t _made of glass.

“Without these lips,” Prompto went on, leaning in, brushing their lips together so lightly, it felt like they’d been caressed by nothing more than a summer breeze. Noct still looked tearful, even as he pulled away. “And those times we were together... It felt so good to be close to you, that for a while, I could forget that anything was wrong.”

Noctis felt like he could cry right there and then. It was devastating to know Prompto wanted something that he couldn’t give him. It killed him to know that Prompto yearned for him so badly, and yet, all he could think about was the incapacitating fear that in the midst of their passion, Prompto’s body might just give out. Noctis knew he would never be able to live with himself if somehow, in some way, he had made Prompto’s time on this earth grow shorter.

“I wish I could give you what you want, but right now, Prompto, I don’t even know if I could.”

Prompto wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that meant, so he merely shook his head. It was clear that, yet again, he wasn’t going to win this fight. He gave Noct a bittersweet smile, and got to his feet.

“I don’t want to keep having this argument with you, Noct. But I... I feel like I have ten years of loving you to make up for. And the time we have left? It won’t be enough, Noct. Trust me, when the time comes, it will never be enough.”  
**  
**Noctis felt that icy sensation reach his heart as the first tears trickled down his pale face. Prompto probably had a point. He had experienced losing the love of his life, had lived with regrets of not doing or saying more. He knew what it was like to have chances taken away, to think he would never get another day with the man he loved. Maybe there was something to be said for seizing the day, even if there were risks involved.

“I’m gonna go get some food. You coming?” Prompto asked, voice breaking, and the king forced his head up.

“I just need a minute.” Prompto gave a nod and left him in peace, recognizing that a _minute __alone_ was implied.  
  
Defeated and guilt-ridden, Noctis lowered his head. Prompto’s words continued to sting, and he knew they wouldn’t be leaving his mind for a while. After all he’d done to try and make things easier on Prompto, after all his efforts so Prompto wouldn’t have to suffer through his condition alone, had he only been making things worse? Did Prompto really wish he’d never told him the truth?

Noctis sighed and shut his eyes, needing to calm himself before he could even attempt to go out there and make pleasant conversation with the hunters. He knew he was in the doghouse for now, but the talk he and Prompto needed to have in detail couldn’t be avoided forever, no matter how much he dreaded it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my best friend for letting me use her Comrades glaive, Castor, in this chapter! He is a cool dude :)


	20. Gralea

The evening with the hunters turned out to be quite enjoyable for Noctis. He felt surprisingly at ease as he listened to tales of days gone by—tales of Prompto the hunter and his comrades—and he felt he had a better understanding of the era of darkness than he’d ever had. The hunters had painted quite the picture with their stories, and Noctis had listened with intrigue—so much intrigue, that Prompto had seen the fascinated look in his eye, and had even begun chiming in with stories of his own, getting caught up in the moment and forgetting the conversation they had had in the tent. When they’d had their fill of stories and alcohol, they turned in for the night, too tired to do anything but curl up together and sleep.

When morning came, Noctis awoke first, and he headed into one of the nearby shacks to freshen up. He got a quick shower and changed into his Assassin’s hoodie that Prompto had given him for his birthday; of course, like the dog tags, he couldn’t leave home without it—being a gift from Prompto and all. He was on his way back to his and Prompto’s tent when he was stopped by the young woman they’d met in the shop the day before.

“Hey, Your Majesty. You have a sec?”

“Uh, sure. Tink, right?” Noct asked, offering a smile as she came to stand in front of him.

“Yeah. I just wanted to say, it was really nice to see Prompto again. I had a hunch you two used to be sweethearts by the way Prompto always talked about you. But seeing you two in person gives me peace of mind,” she said, mind racing back to the campfire the night before—the tender looks the men had exchanged, the way Noctis’ eyes had lit up at every mention of Prompto, the way their hands had linked like it was second-nature.  
  
“Prompto’s a sweet guy, and he deserves someone who really cares about him,” she went on, her smile timid as she peered up at him from under her green ballcap.

“O-oh. Thanks. I _do_ care about him. You don’t need to worry about that,” Noct replied with a soft chuckle, a light dusting of pink appearing on his face.

“And that’s not all. If you two tie the knot one day, well... I think that would be a good thing for a lot of people.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Like Prompto, I’m from Niflheim, which earned me a lot of scorn and distrust pretty much since I was a kid. I’m sure Prompto’s told you that we’ve become a lot more accepted over the last decade, but I still think a lot of people would take comfort in knowing the Lucian king would marry someone with Niflheim roots. And not for power, but for love.”

“Thank you, Tink. My hope has always been that the world would view it that way, but some people have told me I shouldn’t be too sure,” Noct said, giving a small shrug.

“I think when you first returned, some of the citizens were fearful that you might try to take over Niflheim, and take advantage while we had no one to rule us. That’s why we were content to continue governing ourselves. But Prompto is the proof the citizens need to confirm your union isn’t about taking control of Niflheim—it’s about peacefully uniting your two nations, right?”  
  
“Yeah, it is,” Noct assured her with a smile. Tink seemed content with his answer, her expression peaceful.

“Glad to hear it. Well, that was all I wanted to say. Good luck, Your Majesty. I really mean that. I wish you and Prompto all the best, no matter what lies ahead for our nations.”

“Thank you. It was a pleasure meeting you, Tink,” Noctis said, and the girl gave a nod—one that barely concealed her excitement—before she trotted off toward the store. Noctis let himself appreciate the small victory; he was glad to have another soul on their side.

He proceeded back to the tent, finding Prompto awake and dressed. He sat atop his sleeping bag, tugging his combat boots onto his feet. His gaze flickered up toward Noct, then back down. Noctis knelt in front of him, reaching out for his knee.

“Hey, they’ve got something cooking out there that smells delicious. Eggs and garula bacon, I think,” he smiled. He was relieved when Prompto returned the smile.

“I know. I woke with my stomach already growling,” he laughed, before focusing on tying his laces. Noctis’ hand brushed lightly over his knee.

“Hey, um... You still mad at me? About last night?” Noct quizzed, visibly unsettled.  
  
Prompto took in his regretful expression, and his hunched form that was buried inside the baggy Assassin’s Festival sweatshirt. It was the first time Prompto had actually seen him wear the garment, though he figured he'd probably worn it sometime during that month where they’d hardly spoken to one another. Prompto shook his head, and leaned in to press a kiss to Noct’s forehead.

“No, I’m not mad at you. Especially when you’re looking so cute in that hoodie I bought you,” he smirked.

“Yeah, still fits. Glad I didn’t outgrow it before you got to give it to me,” Noctis said, giving him a half-hearted smile as he pulled away. Eyes met, Noctis' still appearing somewhat wary.  
  
“Look, Prompto, I’ll understand if you’re still upset. I know this must be frustrating for you,” Noct shrugged, but Prompto gave another shake of his head.  
  
He’d already let himself abandon any lingering hostility he felt toward Noctis. This trip was for them—for _him_—and Noctis had been kind enough to take the time away from his duties to give him this opportunity. It wasn’t fair to constantly give him a cold shoulder, especially when the things Noctis had said the night before were beginning to sink in.

“No, it’s okay, Noct. I don’t want to make a big deal about this right now. Let’s just enjoy the trip, alright? Like you said before, there are other ways for us to be close, and these few weeks to ourselves will prove that.”

“Yeah,” Noct agreed, smile slowly returning. “I mean, I’m enjoying the chance to meet your friends. I like experiencing these things with you, making new memories.”

“Yeah, plus we’ll have tons of new photos to show off when we get back,” Prompto grinned, shoving a fist in the air. Noctis knew that Prompto was going the extra mile to be kind to him, and he appreciated it, but he didn’t want them to simply gloss over the tension that had been between them the night before.

“Prompto, I hope... I hope you didn’t mean what you said last night. About you wishing you’d never told me the truth. Because I don’t ever want you to feel like that,” Noct spoke up, brows furled with sadness. Prompto recoiled a little before lowering his head and hugging his knees. He blinked quickly, expression pained and filled with guilt.

“I’m sorry. I was just upset,” he said.

“And I don’t blame you for feeling that way,” Noctis promised. “I mean, I understand why you said it. Things _have _changed since you told me, and that’s exactly what you didn’t want.”

“Yeah. Pretty much,” Prompto shrugged, timidly meeting Noct’s eyes. “But _I _understand, too, you know? I did a lot of thinking last night, about why you don’t want to go too far with me. It makes sense that you’re scared, and it’s okay if it takes you a little while to feel comfortable again. I shouldn’t have made you feel like the bad guy.”

Noctis allowed his lips to curl into a small smile as gratitude swelled within him.

“Thank you, Prom. For being so patient,” he murmured, voice low and calm. Prompto watched his expression soften.

“Hey, it’s _way_ better than being at odds with you. I_ hate _it when we fight,” Prompto lamented. Noctis rubbed his opposite arm, hoping to ease the last of his tension.

“Me, too.”

“Besides—” Prompto finished lacing his boots and scooted forward onto his knees, stealing a kiss from Noctis’ lips. “The day you finally do give in, it’ll probably be better than ever,” he winked.

“What? ‘Cause all the sexual tension will have been building up for months?” Noct raised a brow.

“Exactly,” Prompto smirked. “Now, come on. Breakfast first, then maybe we can do a little fishing.”

“Sounds perfect,” Noct smiled, accepting Prompto’s hand as he was led out of the tent.

* * *

They spent most of the morning at the Vesperpool. They found a good, safe fishing spot, and Noct seemed to relax at this opportunity of casting a line. Prompto puttered around the dock, trying out some experimental shots with the new lens Noctis had bought him for his birthday. It was peaceful, with birds chirping in the distance, and the soft plops of Noct’s lure as it danced over the water. Noct declared one of the lures Prompto had given him for his birthday to be the best of the bunch.

When morning turned to noon, Prompto surprised Noct with a picnic lunch he’d packed away in the trunk. They sat happily on the dock, munching on sandwiches and making lighthearted conversation until Noct flopped back against the wood, letting the sun warm him. Prompto knew he would drift off before long, but he merely curled up alongside him, nose nestling into his baggy sweater. Noct slung an arm around his waist as they bathed in the sunlight.

After Noct had dozed for a good half hour or more, they packed up their things and headed back to the hunter HQ for a game of darts. Castor and a couple of other hunters joined them for supper and the evening that followed was much like the last—with everyone gathered around the fire, sharing stories over a couple of drinks.

When morning came, Prompto said his goodbyes, and he and Noctis hit the road again. Eventually, they crossed the newly constructed bridge between Lucis and Niflheim, singing along to songs on the radio until Prompto grew quieter and quieter. Noctis noticed Prompto’s uneasiness increasing as they continued further into Niflheim territory, and he reached over to take his hand. Prompto didn’t consider pulling away, even as his gaze remained on the landscape around them.

“Looks like the Glacian still has this place looking like a winter wonderland,” Prompto commented, trying to muster a smile.

“Is this place familiar to you?” Noct tried.

“Yeah. Pretty sure this is one of the places where I trudged through the snow trying to find you,” Prompto said.

Noctis tried not to let himself be saddened or angered by the memories of that day on the train to Gralea. If he’d had it his way, he would have warped off of that train as soon as he’d had the chance, and caught up to Prompto long before he could pass out from the freezing cold temperatures. He would have wrapped him in a blanket and cradled him in his arms until Ignis and Gladio found them again. Too bad things hadn’t turned out that way, Noctis thought; he might have saved Prompto from the most traumatic experience of his life.

“It’s weird, isn’t it? If I hadn’t been separated from you guys that day, I probably never would have ended up in that magitek facility. I might never have found out the truth about myself,” Prompto mused.

He never would have seen the clones that looked exactly like him, never would have met his creator. Maybe Ardyn would have revealed the truth of his barcode to him in Zegnautus regardless, but he’d learned more in that facility than Ardyn could have ever relayed to him. Besides, he’d taken down Verstael’s monstrosity, Immortalis, which meant he’d quite possibly saved the world, and that was one thing he would never go back and change.

“Do you wish you hadn’t?” Noctis asked, carefully.

“No, it was for the best.”

Both were silent as they continued past snow-covered hills and into a more urban atmosphere, with houses and buildings filling the seemingly endless canyon below the road. Prompto shifted uncomfortably as he took in the city, and Noctis ran his thumb along the back of his hand.

“You want to head for your parents’ place now? Or do you want to have today to ourselves? We don’t have to rush there if you don’t want to.”  
  
“Oh, uh... Y-yeah. Let’s wait ‘til tomorrow. I think I need some time to clear my head first,” Prompto replied, numbly.

“Sure,” Noct agreed, though his worried gaze flickered between Prompto and the open road. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” It was mostly true.

“I know. We both used to think of this as enemy territory, but it was the people in charge—not the people living here—who made it into the corrupted place it was,” Noctis stated, and Prompto watched him with surprise. He appreciated Noctis’ attempt to soothe him, even if he had missed the mark a little.

“Yeah, I know,” Prompto hummed, contentedly. “It was the empire, not the people,” he agreed.

“Then what is it?” Noct gently tried again.

“I was just thinking... this is probably gonna be your territory someday, huh? I mean, I know nothing’s official yet, but someday, you’re probably going to rule the place I came from. I just... I hope I get to see that, you know?” Prompto trailed off.

“Of course, but... what’s got you thinking about this all of a sudden?”

“I was talking to Tink. Seems you’ve earned a lot of Niflheim’s trust over the past while.”

“Well,” Noct laughed, warmly. “It seems _you’ve _had a lot to do with that.”

“Huh? Me?” Prompto quizzed, brows raised as he pointed to himself.

“Yes, you. Things have changed since Libertus told us that people distrusted you because of your association with me. Now people are beginning to trust _me _because of my association with _you_,” Noct smiled. Prompto continued to appear perplexed.

“I don’t get it. Why?”

“Well, the hunters know and trust you, the damage with the glaives could have been a lot worse if you hadn’t made me abandon the hunts back home, you’ve had some good ideas about money and resources, you’ve personally checked in on the progress in Galdin. You’re already being seen as a figure that people can trust. Besides, Tink said you’re the reassurance Niflheim needs to realize that... if I were to take charge of Niflheim, it would be out of love for you and where you come from.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah. My love for you proves that taking charge of Niflheim isn’t just some grab for power. It’s about creating peace between our nations. Breaking down the borders, just like we promised, right?” Noct smiled.

“T-that’s right,” Prompto nodded, a flustered little smile appearing on his face. He could still remember that day in Zegnautus, the fated promise that he and Noctis had made all those years ago. Could he really be such a vital key to making it come true? Could Noct really not do it without him? He’d always wished it would truly be something _only they_ could accomplish together.

“Do you really think that’s a good move, given our nations’ history and everything?” Prompto asked, just to be sure.

“It’s _because _of that history that we need to at least _try _and make a change. Past rulers aside, Niflheim is a beautiful place,” Noct added, glancing out the window, watching the houses and industrial buildings glisten with snow.

“I’ve never explored it in full, but I hope so,” Prompto said, weakly, his fingers clutching a little tighter to Noctis’ of their own accord. Noctis squeezed back, knowing exactly where his partner’s thoughts were.

“Prompto, you didn’t come from a kingdom filled with hate. Maybe where you were born wasn’t the ideal place, but Niflheim itself was probably filled with as many kind people as Lucis. And I’m going to find all the good and beautiful things here and show them to you,” Noctis vowed, his words drawing Prompto’s curious gaze to him.

“Is that a mission of yours?” he asked, with a small chuckle.

“Yeah, it is now,” Noct smiled, coyly. Prompto’s smile was relaxed now as he sat back in his seat more comfortably, watching the scenery go by.

Both of them knew that Niflheim wasn’t all experiments and power-hungry people, as Prompto had fought alongside and protected many of the nation’s caring and generous citizens, but Noctis knew Prompto would still feel better if he saw the place at its best.

And so, with both fun and beauty in mind, they checked into their hotel, then set out on foot to a large, snowy park in the middle of town.

“Wow,” Prompto marvelled, halting in his steps as they came across the huge, oval, outdoor skating rink.  
  
Somewhere between fifty and a hundred people filled the area—many already skating in their winter gear, some lacing up their skates on the sidelines, and some merely watching the action. Some skaters stumbled and skidded slowly over the ice, apparently new to this winter activity, while others circled the rink at brisk speeds. Others sat on nearby park benches, or stood in line waiting for hot chocolate at the small booth close to the rink. Trees surrounded the area, each one tall and full of branches that held a fresh layer of sparkling white snow. The evening sky was darkening, but its dark blue hue made the snow stand out, its beauty quite stifling as flakes fell softly down to meet the few inches of white already on the ground.

“Wow, this place is incredible,” Prompto repeated, making Noctis smile, and squeeze the hand that was already within his own.

“Told you this was a beautiful place. Here you go. This is Niflheim,” Noctis gently murmured. Prompto continued to gape, and he gazed around at the happy people, at the youngsters playing in the snow, at the couples—young and old—holding hands, just like him and Noct.

“So, do you want to try it out?”

“You mean, us? Skate?” Prompto questioned.

“Yeah, have you ever skated before?” Noct quizzed, raising a curious brow.

“Only a few times. I don’t know if I remember how. You?”

“Y-yeah, I think I know my way around the ice,” Noct stuttered, and averted his gaze shyly, making Prompto give a suspicious frown. He squinted his eyes at Noctis, whose gaze flickered nervously back to him after a few too many seconds of silence.

“You’re hiding something, dude,” Prompto stated.

“What? No, I’m not!”

“Your cheeks say otherwise!”

“Fine,” Noct huffed, his hand twitching uncomfortably in Prompto’s grasp. He kept his gaze on the skaters ahead—on their colourful scarves and their hats with the little pom-poms on top, anything to keep himself distracted enough to spit out this secret.

“You remember I used to take my skates with me to school on Tuesdays?” he started, slowly and timidly.

“Yeah.”

“I lied. I wasn’t playing hockey. Ignis convinced my dad to put me in figure skating because he thought it would help me become more graceful.”  
  
He dared a look at Prompto, who was keeping a straight face, but who burst out laughing a second later, his head flinging forward as he tried to recover from the hilarity of the story. He'd always thought it was odd; not only had Noctis' old skates appeared a little too dainty for hockey practice, Prompto had also been surprised that Lucis' only prince had been permitted to play such a rough and dangerous sport.

“Did… Did Ignis hate you, or something?” Prompto wheezed, holding his stomach as he fought for air. Noctis merely continued to frown.

“He certainly didn’t consider how much I could be teased for it, which is why I never told anyone.”

“You didn’t need to hide it from _me_!”

“Didn’t I? You’re finding it pretty funny right now.”

“Just the fact that Ignis put you up to it. Plus, I’m having a great time picturing you in tights! But figure skating is incredible to watch, dude! And seriously, I think those lessons worked,” Prompto said, voice returning to normal as he recovered.

“How so?” Noctis tested.

“Come on! You move like no one I’ve ever seen. You _are _unbelievably graceful, even in the midst of battle. Kind of mesmerizing. Kind of beautiful.”

“Keep talking,” Noct purred, deciding to forgive his partner for laughing, as he was definitely redeeming himself now. He inched his body closer to Prompto’s, making their arms touch from their wrists to their shoulders.

“Aw, no, now I’m embarrassed,” Prompto said, rubbing the back of his head. Noctis rolled his eyes.

“_You’re _embarrassed? I just told you my deep, dark secret.”

Prompto gave a shrug, and tugged gently on Noct’s hand, stepping backwards and hoping to pull him along, but Noctis continued to stand where he was, his gaze curious as he watched Prompto’s eager expression.

“Will you show me, Noct? Show me how to skate?” Prompto’s eyes were wide and childlike, reminding Noctis of the Prompto he’d known years ago. That willingness to find fun in any small way he could, that curious innocence… No way could Noctis deny Prompto anything when he was wearing that look.

“Fine, but if you laugh, I’m leaving you to figure it out on your own, and you’re not going to find it so funny when you land on your ass,” Noct warned.

“I promise, I won’t laugh,” Prompto rolled his eyes, waving his free hand dismissively.

Together, they proceeded toward the skate rental building—a small shack similar to the hot chocolate booth. Prompto requested two pairs of skates in their sizes, and meandered over to one of the benches to put them on. Noctis laced his up much more quickly than Prompto did, probably thanks to all the practice. They stuffed their shoes into their bags, which they turned in to the girl working at the rental shack for safe keeping, then proceeded over the snow towards the ice, holding onto each other for support as they hobbled on the unsteady and somewhat unfamiliar footwear.

“I’m gonna make a fool of myself, aren’t I?” Prompto groaned, when they reached the ice to see a little girl—who couldn’t have been more than five or six—going at a decent clip, hands behind her back as she skated with ease.

“No way. I’ve got you,” Noctis promised, patting his arm, just above where their elbows were linked with one another’s. Bravely, Noctis took the first step onto the ice, and waited patiently for Prompto to do the same. Carefully, they managed to get both feet safely onto the slippery surface, and Prompto tensed up like a cat in water, hoping that if he stayed perfectly still, he wouldn’t go anywhere until he was ready.

“You’re gonna be fine. Here,” Noct smiled, gently unlacing his arm from Prompto’s and outstretching his hands in front of him for Prompto to grab. Their mittens clung together especially tightly thanks to the sticky, packed snow that they must have picked up sometime while they were getting their skates on. Prompto smiled nervously as Noctis locked eyes with him.

“Okay, to start, just try sliding one foot back and forth to get the feel of the ice,” Noct instructed.

“Alright. Sounds easy enough,” Prompto grinned, sheepishly. He shifted his weight to his left foot, and when it threatened to move, Noctis somehow managed to keep them both grounded. Carefully, Prompto did as he was told, and slid his right foot forward and back, letting both his brain and his muscles get used to the feeling. After several repetitions, he switched to the other side, finding it a little easier this time.

“Alrightie. What next?”

“Now, you’re gonna try pushing one foot out to the side and letting it glide back in. It should propel you forward,” Noctis explained. “As soon as you do that, follow it up with the same thing on the other foot.”

“Gotcha. I think.” Prompto once again followed his partner’s instruction, and to his relief, was able to go forward in a couple of slow strides as Noctis skated effortlessly backwards, still holding his hands.

“I think my muscle memory is actually kicking in a bit,” Prompto grinned, managing a few more strides, this time a little more confidently.

“Cool, you’re doing great,” Noctis encouraged.  
  
Slowly, but steadily, they made their way along the rink, earning a few smiles from the passersby, to which they gave smiles in return. It was strange, Prompto thought, that these people could have been _his _people—if he had been_ born_ instead of _created_, or if he'd been given to a Niff family instead of being brought to Lucis. Looking at these people now, as kind and as similar to those in Lucis, he had to wonder if the leadership had been different, would there have been a war at all?

“You’re not sad, are you? Sad that we’re here?” Noctis asked, noticing the distant look that had taken over Prompto’s face as he stole gazes at the citizens around him.

“No, not at all. I mean, it’s a bit surreal, I guess, to think that things could have been different if the circumstances had been just a little different, too,” Prompto shrugged. “But I’m glad I grew up in Lucis. If I hadn’t, I probably never would have met you. There would be no _us_.” There was a definite sadness in his eyes now, and Noctis leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose.

“Well, I, too, am awfully thankful there’s an _us_,” he smiled lazily as he pulled away, feeling so grateful that the tension from Meldacio was gone for now.

“Noct?”

“Mm?”

“Do you think Tink was right when she said that? About me being the reassurance Niflheim needs?”

“Well, yeah,” Noct said, eyeing Prompto as they continued along the rink. “For years, there have been rumours that you and I were more than friends. Us being together all this time shows that this is not just some whim we’re following. Any union between us would truly be for love, and you being originally from Niflheim is the symbol we need to prove that there is no more bad blood between our nations. It shows that we are ready to move past the war, and embrace peace with one another—you and me, Lucis and Niflheim.”

Prompto nodded slowly, taking it all in with a stoic expression. Noctis ducked his head a little, trying to catch his gaze.

“You okay?”

“What about Accordo? Or Tenebrae? You sure there wouldn’t be a better match for you there?”

“I’m sure,” Noct said with a smile, a hint of laughter on his breath. “Accordo’s got Claustra running things, Tenebrae has their government. And besides, neither of those places has ever feuded with Lucis like Niflheim has. Our nations are the ones that need to heal. And I honestly think we’re the key to making that happen.”

Noctis watched Prompto with a slight frown, hoping he hadn’t said anything that might dissuade or discourage him—even _overwhelm_ him. To his relief, after a few long seconds of mulling it over, Prompto turned his head, granting him a sincere smile.

“You make a really good point, Noct,” he said, making the king smile. “I want us to make a difference together, and if that’s the best way to do it, then I’m on board. I would be more than proud to rule at your side, and become your husband from Niflheim.”

“My husband?” Noct asked, eyes opening wide. The blades of his skates skidded into a T-shape, bringing him to a halt.

“T-that’s what you meant, wasn’t it? Is that okay?” Prompto queried, eyes popping open as well, worried he had said something wrong.

“I-is that a yes to my proposal?” Noctis asked, and Prompto tilted his head to the side in thought, his eyes travelling up toward the star-speckled sky. In Accalia, he had been hesitant, but now, everything seemed clear. Noctis was his future, and even if that future wasn’t a long one, he couldn’t imagine taking the journey with anyone else.

Yes, maybe they still had things to work through when it came to Prompto’s condition, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t figure it out. It certainly didn’t mean he didn’t _love _Noctis, because he did. With every piece of himself, he loved Noctis beyond all else. He didn’t have time to even consider what the reactions of the council or the public might be, because the words were already leaving his mouth.

“Um, yeah. I think it is,” he timidly grinned, bringing his gaze back down to meet Noctis’. Noctis gave him an incredulous, yet tearfully happy look as he moved forward to embrace him, his hands leaving Prompto’s—which as a result, left Prompto a little unsteady.

“Wh-whoa! Don’t forget, amateur skater here!”

“I’m not gonna let you fall, you doofus,” Noctis half-cried, half-laughed, pressing his nose into the side of Prompto’s hair, and pressing tiny, frantic kisses against the blond strands.  
  
Hands clung to the back of Prompto’s jacket, holding him so very tightly that it was actually a little bit hard to take in regular breaths, but honestly, Prompto couldn’t care less. He just threw his arms around Noctis in return, and joined in the emotional, joyous moment. He found himself feeling a little giddy as they quickly realized they didn’t know what to do with themselves—their tears finding their way out of them as weak chuckles.

“This is like the least romantic way to say yes to a proposal—doing so months later in a public place when I don’t even have the ring with me,” Noctis squeaked out.

“Are you kidding me? It’s totally romantic! Holding hands, ice skating in a beautiful place!”

“I guess that’s true.”  
  
Another burst of half-sobs, half-chuckles emerged before Noctis finally made himself pull away. When he did, they noticed that many of the bystanders had stopped what they were doing to watch them. Some had soft smiles on their faces, while others looked a tad confused. Prompto smiled, and held up a mittened hand, as if he wore a ring underneath.

“We just got engaged!” he explained, with a shy, crooked grin. The looks of confusion transformed into happiness, and everyone who was watching applauded them.

“Congratulations, you two!” a few people called out, and Noctis nestled his head in under Prompto’s chin, his mitten-clad hand coming to rest on Prompto’s chest. Prompto wove an arm around his waist, pulling him in close.

“Best day ever?” Noctis murmured, glancing up at him with a smile.

“Oh, totally the best day ever,” Prompto agreed, with a grin so wide his eyes crinkled.

“I love you, you dork,” Noct whispered, against his chest.

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

* * *

Once they had recovered from the excitement of the engagement, they continued the trek around the rink. Prompto managed to keep up with Noctis well enough as they skated side-by-side now, holding hands as they continued their promenade.

“Still feel like I’m on a high,” Prompto said, unable to hide his elated grin.

“I should hope so,” Noct smirked. “Hope I wasn't the only one waiting for this day my entire life.”

“Nope, right there with ya, buddy,” Prompto replied, chuckling. “So, I gotta ask. Back in Meldacio, when you were talking about me taking risks and accepting my origins and stuff...”

“Yeah, I was hinting around, trying to see if you might be ready to say yes to my proposal if I gave it another go,” Noct said, smiling in amusement.

“Thought so. Didn’t clue in at first, but now it makes sense.”

“I’ve said it before. I suck at hiding things from you.”

“Sometimes you do,” Prompto laughed. They continued to move along the ice, the soft scrape of their skates against the ice almost therapeutic. “So, while we’re out here, are you gonna show me any of your tricks?”

“My tricks?”

“Yeah, you know, some of your cool figure skating moves?”

Noctis glanced around. It was fully dark now, and most of the families with small children had already gone home for the night. The rink couldn’t have held much more than twenty people now. There were plenty of open spaces where Noctis could show off if he really wanted to. And he wanted to, for Prompto—Prompto who might not always be there; Prompto who, as far as Noctis was concerned, would get just about every damn thing he wanted for the next decade.

“Okay, but I’m gonna be severely out of practice,” he said, glancing sidelong at Prompto and giving him a shrug.

“It’s fine! Remember, you’re talking to a guy who, for one thing, just agreed to marry you and therefore is gonna love you no matter how bad you suck. And two, can barely skate at all, so you could literally skate backwards a stride and I would be impressed. Just go for it!” Prompto encouraged, and Noctis was glad to have even so much as a one-man cheering section, especially if he landed on his backside.

“Alright. I’m gonna need a bit of space, so just hold on,” Noctis said, slipping his hand out of Prompto’s as Prompto successfully skidded to a halt.  
  
Noctis skated a few strides ahead, then getting some momentum, he turned himself around to skate backwards, and stuck a leg out behind him. His upper body leaned forward, his arms coming gracefully out to the sides, which Prompto assumed was for stability. To his surprise, Noctis launched himself into the air, and somehow managed to spin around twice before landing on his opposite leg, which swung out behind him with as much grace as he’d had before the jump.

“Dude! That was amazing!” Prompto beamed, skating forward to catch up with him. His heart felt light with pride and admiration, and he suddenly wanted to brag to the whole world that it was _his fiancé _who had done such a spectacular trick. Noctis’ cheeks were pink, and Prompto hadn’t noticed if they’d already been pink from the cold, or whether it was from the praise; it certainly wasn’t from the effort of the jump, as it had looked far too easy for him.

“Thanks. That was only a double salchow, though. I used to be able to pull off a triple,” Noctis sighed, staring longingly at the ice.

“Still, that was so frickin’ cool,” Prompto chuckled.

“Hold on. I’m just gonna try…” Prompto remained where he was as Noctis skated ahead again.

“Please, don’t hurt yourself,” Prompto groaned, but Noctis continued along, manoeuvring himself until he was in the correct position to take flight again. Prompto watched as Noctis repeated the same jump from earlier, and Noct cursed under his breath, knowing he could do better if he could just get a bit more air.

He continued to skate, gaining lots of backwards momentum, knowing exactly how to move. This time, he launched himself, and pushed his body into three complete spins before landing back on one leg, the other swinging out behind him, his body leaning forward again, and his arms out to the sides. He looked like some sort of majestic being. Prompto felt like he was developing a crush on Noctis all over again—like they were teenagers and he was just discovering the ways in which Noctis was so different from anyone else, in the most extraordinary ways.

“Man, I am so in awe of you right now!” Prompto bleated, almost pouting as he approached Noctis again. Noct chuckled, amused that although Prompto sounded slightly jealous, he still wove his arms around his waist and pulled their bodies together.

“Let’s call it even. Don’t think I didn’t get distracted sometimes when we’d be fighting monsters, and I’d see you wielding your guns with all that energy in your step. You’re amazing, too,” Noctis said.

“Yeah?” Prompto blinked, then he realized he’d almost missed a perfect opportunity to tease Noctis. “Wait, you sure my firearms weren’t the only guns you were checkin’ out?” He smirked, posing with his fists up and muscles bulging under his jacket, eyes closed and lips puckering together. Noctis swatted the back of his head.

“You shouldn’t tease people. It’s not nice,” he mumbled.

“So you _were _checking me out,” Prompto snickered.

“Oh, yeah. Totally,” Noct admitted, smirking. “Thought you already pointed that out in Meldacio.”

“True, I did,” Prompto grinned, letting out his usual chuckle that warmed Noctis’ insides. Noctis took Prompto’s hand again, and they continued to leisurely skate side-by-side. The air was chilly now, but as long as they kept moving, it was still tolerable. 

“Prompto?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really happy you said yes,” Noctis said, turning his head to look at Prompto. “I know you were scared about what impact our marriage might have on everyone, but I’m really glad you didn’t let those fears win. Because I love you. I love you so much, and I can’t wait to live this life together that we never thought we’d get, you know?”

Prompto smiled at Noctis’ rambling, and brought himself to a stop, his skates digging into the ice. Noct glanced back at him, and stopped as well, carefully inching himself back to stand in front of Prompto. Hands joined between their bodies, and Prompto locked eyes with Noctis.

“Even if it’s short-lived?” he asked, just to make sure one final time that Noctis was thinking this through.

“No matter how short it is, I’ll always be thankful to have been by your side,” Noctis said, and Prompto felt his heart warming.  
  
He loved this older, more vocal Noctis who didn’t hold back so much of what he used to hide away in his heart. Maybe the reality of Prompto’s situation had made him realize how important it was to live life with no regrets, to say the words he felt Prompto deserved to hear. Even if it was a sad way to learn that lesson, it was still better than never having said them, and regretting it once it was far too late.

“I’m happy I said yes, too,” Prompto promised him. He tilted his head to press their foreheads together, and Noctis brushed his nose against his own. “Getting to marry my high school sweetheart and best friend?” Prompto chuckled softly, warmly. “That seems like more happiness than any guy should ask for. I’m pretty lucky.”

“We’re both lucky,” Noctis hummed, his lips travelling to the side of Prompto’s face, then nipping at his cold, bare ear. The warmth of it brought his awareness to just how frozen the rest of his body was, and he reacted with a violent shiver.

“Brrr... Getting chilly out here.”

“Yeah, guess we could head for the hotel now,” Noct smirked, still licking teasingly at the frozen skin.

“What do you say we pick up a bottle of champagne on the way? Really celebrate tonight?” Prompto asked.  
  
Noctis pulled back, and gave him a genuine smile. This _was _their engagement night, after all. It should be one of the happiest nights of their lives, and it was. Why not milk it for all it was worth?

“That sounds perfect,” Noctis agreed.

* * *

“Alright,” Noctis grinned, mouth half-full of the popcorn they had bought on the way back from the liquor store. He held the champagne bottle out in front of himself, thumb brushing against the cork. Prompto sat on the edge of the bed, eagerly grinning, as he reached into the long, plastic bag of popcorn. He stuffed in a mouthful as he watched Noctis.

“Let’s hope I don’t break anything,” the king said.  
  
He popped the cork off with a loud noise, and the two of them cheered. Noctis smiled widely and headed for the counter in their hotel room, where a sink, coffee maker, mugs, and wine glasses sat waiting to be used. He reached for a wine glass, and poured up some champagne for Prompto.

“For you, sir,” he offered, bowing playfully as he handed him the glass.

“Why, thank you. What a gentleman,” Prompto sang, airily, closing his eyes as he took a whiff of the bitter beverage. Noctis returned to the counter, and poured himself a glass of the champagne before heading to the bed to sit beside his fiancé. Prompto met his gentle gaze with a tender, but jubilant smile.

“Here’s to many wonderful years together,” Noctis announced.

“And to a beautiful future,” Prompto added.

“Cheers,” Noctis smiled, softly.

“Cheers.” They clinked their glasses together delicately before bringing them to their lips and taking a sip. Prompto smacked his lips as it went down, and Noctis chuckled softly at the sound.

“Hey, Noct. You ever try that thing where you link arms and try and drink it? I’ve seen it done at weddings and stuff,” Prompto energetically chirped, holding his elbow out to imitate the motion.

“I would only have ever tried it with you, you doofus, so no, I haven’t,” Noct smirked.

“I always thought it looked kind of cool. Maybe we could practice now, and be really good at it for _our _wedding.” Prompto’s eyes were lit up with eager excitement, and Noctis wouldn’t dream of taking that look away.

“Alright, then,” he simpered, hooking his elbow with Prompto’s, earning him an even more excited look.

“Ready?”

“Yep. Go,” Prompto signalled, and they brought their drinks towards their lips again. The awkward movements of trying to get their mouths to reach the glasses made Prompto laugh, the vibration of which made Noctis’ champagne splash upward and dribble down his chin. He let out a squawk before lowering the glass again and wiping his face with his free hand, as Prompto continued to laugh at the sight.

“Nice job,” Noctis playfully muttered.

“See? This is why we practice,” Prompto grinned, as they made their second attempt, successfully downing a mouthful this time. They unlinked their arms, and Prompto turned away, crawling across the bed to set his glass down on the nightstand.

“Okay, third time’s the charm,” Noctis murmured. Confused, Prompto turned back to face him, and there was Noctis—down on one knee, with a small, black, velvet box in his hand. Prompto’s eyes widened, and he got to his feet, his hands coming to rest on either side of his own face as he stared down at Noctis with nervous excitement.

“Prompto Argentum, I love you more than I ever thought possible, more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I know that sometimes you feel like you’re not worthy. I know that the little boy I met in grade school never felt he deserved to marry his prince. But I promise you, Prompto, if you let me, I will take every opportunity for the rest of our time together to make sure you know you’re loved, that you’re worthy, and that you’re the only one I want to spend this life with. The _only_ one,” he said, watching as Prompto’s tender smile grew.  
  
“I mean it when I say you’re my everything, so will you please…” Noctis trailed off, his fingers prying open the box in his hands. “Do me the honour of marrying me?”

Prompto stared down into Noctis’ tender, blue eyes, and at his gently smiling lips. He’d given this poor man a ‘no’ on his first hasty proposal, then a ‘yes’ on the second where there’d been no ring at all. Now finally on their third try, they had made it all come together—a peaceful place, a beautiful speech, a glistening silver ring, and two very happy people.

“Yes,” Prompto said, with a gleaming smile. “Yes, I will marry you, Noctis Lucis Caelum.”

The teary excitement that had overtaken them at the skating rink didn’t return, but was rather replaced with a deep warmth that seemed to take over not just their hearts, but their bodies and souls. Prompto allowed his hand to be taken into Noctis’ and he watched as the thick, silver band with three silver diamonds was slipped onto his ring finger. He brought it up to eye level to admire it as Noctis got to his feet.

“Do you like it?” Noctis asked, brows creasing in uncertainty; Prompto had no idea why he was worrying. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry—elegant, yet masculine. Most importantly, it was a symbol of their love, and he was touched to have such an important symbol on his person at all times, for all the world to see.

“I love it. Thank you,” he cooed. He reached out for the back of Noctis’ neck and pulled him in to meet his lips. They shared several slow, patient kisses before pulling apart, and leaning into each other’s embrace. Prompto rested his chin on Noct’s shoulder, and Noct leaned forward to do the same.

“I love you, Noct.”

“I love you, too.”

They stayed like that for several minutes, swaying slightly in a circle, like a very slow dance. Eventually, they lifted their heads to share another kiss. As they parted, smiling eyes met.

“You want to move to the bed?” Prompto asked, in not much more than a whisper. Noctis nodded, and they travelled over to the mattress, dimming the lights and taking another few sips of their champagne before huddling together. Noctis lay on his back, his hand reaching for the nape of Prompto’s neck, and pulling him down to meet him again. Prompto laughed as he accidentally kicked the popcorn bag near the end of the bed, sending several pieces scattering across the mattress.

“Some people have rose petals on the bed? We nerds have popcorn,” he chuckled.

“Nerds, huh? Yep, seems kind of par for the course for us,” Noctis smirked.  
  
****Prompto hummed his agreement as he leaned down again, capturing Noctis’ lips and earning a weak moan as his tongue invaded Noct’s mouth. Noctis’ hand travelled to Prompto’s back, and found its way underneath his shirt to caress soft skin. Prompto did the same to the front of Noctis’ shirt, sliding his hand up until it found the lines of his abdomen.

Prompto's fingers brushed lightly over the stitches, and he pulled back a little, having forgotten they were there. Noctis released a soft breath.

“It’s okay. Doesn’t hurt much anymore,” Noct assured him. Prompto smiled and leaned in to kiss him, hand wandering under the fabric again.

“Prom? I still don’t know if we should… go too far, you know?” Noct said, pulling back from the kisses. Prompto pulled back as well, and met Noctis’ eyes; they actually looked frightened.

“Don’t worry. I don’t want to fight about this tonight, Noct,” Prompto promised him. Noctis looked relieved, and he gave Prompto a soft smile, returning his hand to the back of his blond hair, fingers brushing through it gently.

“But we could still snuggle up with a movie. Or we could go back out on the town for a bit. Whatever you want,” he murmured. Prompto’s gaze wandered southward, and he looked almost shy to speak as his fingers traced circles on Noct’s stomach.

“Or we could still do _you_,” he eventually said, so quietly, so uncertainly. Noctis stared at him with a slight frown, waiting until Prompto’s gaze found its way back to his own. Prompto had always been a giver. It had always been in him to think of others before himself.

He continued making patterns on Noctis’ skin with his fingertips, wandering ever so slightly closer to his waistline each time they circled. Noctis focused on keeping himself still, even though the contact was driving him a little crazy. Prompto’s touch was quickly becoming a little too inviting, but this was their engagement night. It was supposed to be about reciprocity.

“No way. That’s not fair to you,” Noctis said, continuing to thread his fingers through Prompto’s soft hair. “Let’s just skip that part for tonight.”

“I don’t mind,” Prompto assured him, lowering his lips to Noctis’ waist now. He kissed the skin gently before trailing his lips onto his jeans, continuing to kiss his way down. He could feel every muscle impatiently twitching beneath him.

“O-okay, okay. If you’re sure you don’t mind,” Noctis panted.

“I don’t mind,” Prompto repeated. He immediately felt Noctis reaching for his shirt, tugging it over his head. He took that as an invitation to do the same to Noctis, who sat up to allow him to rid him of the garment as well. Noctis lay back down, hands sliding over Prompto's toned midriff before Prompto lowered his lips to his clothed groin again, his fingers working to undo the button on his waistband.

“Nng... just use your hand, though. I want you up here with me,” Noct instructed, breathlessly. His fingers moved up to cling to the nape of Prompto’s neck, tugging him gently towards him. Prompto raised his head to meet Noctis’ eyes, and gave a small nod and smile before leaning in to meet Noct’s lips again; Noctis whimpered as they connected.

Prompto succeeded in one-handedly undoing Noct’s pants, and brushed the back of his hand over his boxers.

“What about your clothes?” Prompto asked, lip caught between Noctis’ two.

“Don’t care. I’ve got more, just go.”

Not needing any further permission, Prompto slipped a hand under his boxer shorts, and Noctis released a heavy breath laced with hints of a moan as fingers curled around him. Prompto captured the noise into his own mouth, and continued to kiss him tenderly, but passionately, as his hand began a stroking motion. He rested his other hand at the side of Noctis’ face, his elbow taking most of his weight as he hovered above his partner.

“I love you, Noct,” he whispered, thumb brushing over Noct’s beautiful face as he watched his closed eyes, and his forehead creased with lines of pleasure.

“I love you, too,” Noct breathed.  
  
His hands wove around to the backs of Prompto’s shoulders, holding him close in that barnacle-like manner that Prompto had always done to him when they made love. And in this moment, Prompto knew that he was loved—by the way Noctis whimpered his name, and the way he clung to him like he was the only man left in the world. Maybe this way of showing their love wasn’t what they were used to anymore, but it was the result of Noctis wanting to keep Prompto safe and healthy, and right now, it was enough. Maybe it would always have to be enough.

Before they knew it, Noctis arched up against Prompto as he reached his peak, his head tilting back against the pillow. Prompto pulled away from their kisses to give Noct time to catch his breath. He placed kisses on Noct’s forehead instead, content to wait as Noct came down from the high. Noctis blinked lazily, and managed a small smile as his fingers travelled to Prompto’s lips, grazing tenderly over them as he stared up at that gentle face.

“I love you so much, Prompto Argentum,” he whispered, never _ever _wanting him to forget that.

* * *

Once they were showered and ready for bed, they shut off the lights and curled up under the covers together for some sleep. Noct rested with his head on Prompto’s chest, hand rubbing gently. He was deep in thought, and Prompto suspected as much, as Noct was even more quiet than usual.

“Something wrong?” Prompto queried, squeezing Noct gently in against him, arm secure around his waist.

“I feel like I was selfish tonight,” Noct admitted, burying his nose a little deeper in against Prompto’s t-shirt. Prompto shook his head and sighed.

“Come on, man. I was the one who offered.”

“And you’re also the one who had to take a cold shower afterwards.”

“Wha—? How do you know—“

“Prompto, all the steam in the bathroom from _my_ shower didn’t magically disappear after _yours_.”

“Well…” Prompto fidgeted uncomfortably. As tempting as it had been to take care of his urges on his own, he’d figured he’d better not. “Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. Besides, you’re only trying to keep me healthier longer. That doesn’t make you a bad guy. It makes you a really good guy.”

“I hope so, because right now I feel like scum.”

“Noct,” Prompto murmured, and tilted his head down to kiss the top of Noctis’ hair. Noctis continued to brush a hand over the front of Prompto’s shirt, and Prompto gave him another squeeze in his arms. The silence continued, and while Prompto felt he should try to get to the root of it again, he didn’t know if he should prod anymore until Noctis was ready to talk.

“Can I ask you something?” Noct began on his own.

“Of course.”

“If you’re saying all this now... If you had a change of heart like this...” Noctis trailed off, and Prompto frowned, worriedly.

“Noct?” he coaxed, feeling the man’s tension as he held him in his arms.

“You’re sure you didn’t mean what you said in Meldacio, right? When you said you wished you’d never told me about your condition?” Noctis held his breath as soon as he’d gotten the question out, and listened as Prompto gave a long, regretful-sounding sigh.

“No,” he whispered. “I’m glad you know the truth. Like I said, I was just... hurt and angry.”

“That’s good. I-I mean, not good that you were hurt, but—”

“I know what you mean,” Prompto assured him. Noctis adjusted himself against his chest again, but he still didn’t seem settled. Normally, when they lay cuddled so close like this, it was only a matter of time before Noctis drifted off, but he seemed far from it now.

“I really don’t mean to keep hurting you, Prompto. I’m just confused when it comes to what I should do in these situations. I don’t know whether I should do what you want, or listen to my gut when I’m feeling apprehensive about it,” Noctis divulged, hoping they were both in a state of mind to talk about this openly and without scorn.

“I know. Your heart’s in the right place, Noct. It has been from the start,” Prompto murmured. “I don’t think I really understood until I thought about what you said in the tent that night. You’re so nervous of making me worse off that you get sick to your stomach. That’s when I realized how deeply you care, Noct. The thought of hurting me actually...” Prompto’s voice failed him before he could finish the sentence.

“Makes me physically ill? Yeah,” Noctis admitted, hand rubbing over Prompto’s heart.

“And that’s love. That’s the kind of real love that makes me realize I’m perfectly safe with you, Noct. And so, I can’t be mad at you for having these sorts of doubts.”

Noctis lifted his head to take in Prompto’s serious but gentle expression, and he gave Prompto a genuinely grateful smile before laying back down.

“That means a lot,” he whispered, and Prompto hummed his appreciation.

“I think it’s finally hitting me... what my condition means. What _leaving you behind _means, and I think it’s making me want to cling to you more than ever. I think that’s part of why this whole lack of intimacy thing is so hard. But that doesn’t mean I want to be reckless either. I’m not going to put myself in a situation that I think is gonna be harmful in the long run,” Prompto explained.

“Yeah,” Noct replied, softly. He hadn’t really considered that until now. Prompto was watching out for his health as well. He had been all along.  
  
The time he'd panicked when he'd had the nosebleed back home, the way he’d fretted whenever Noct would ask him if he was feeling okay—those were the signs that he was worried as well, and perhaps Noct should have trusted that Prompto could take care of himself. After all, he’d survived a long time without him.

“Can _I_ ask _you_ a question next?” Prompto asked, and Noctis nodded his head against his chest. “Have you done any research on… you know. What we can or can’t do? Because I feel perfectly healthy right now, and if tonight was an example of what things have to be like from now on, then that’s fine. I’ll deal. But I don’t want to waste any opportunities to be together if we don’t have to.”

Noctis swallowed hard, his guilt returning and settling in his gut. His thumb ceased its motion against Prompto’s side, his fingers curling into a loose fist against his skin instead.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Uh-huh. Always.”

“I’ve been scared to look into it. I feel like… I won’t like what I’ll find,” Noct murmured, closing his eyes tightly as if to block out the pain.

“Still being honest? I’ve been avoiding it for the same reason,” Prompto said, and Noctis opened his eyes wide, blinking in surprise. He quickly closed them again and continued rubbing a hand against Prompto’s side. He was glad to know he wasn’t alone in that mindset, but there was still more to this equation.

“I’m terrified to know what’s going to happen to you, Prompto, and terrified to know what I might have already done to shorten your life.”

“What are you talking about?” Prompto asked, weakly, so much confusion in his voice, as Noctis had always been the thing to make him feel better—never worse.

“What if taking you on that journey with us put a strain on your body? Think of all the battles you had to fight, and all those nasty poisonous enemies we ran into, or… All the times I thought I was making you feel special when we made love... What if I was damaging you somehow?”

“Noct, just stop, okay?” Prompto whispered, pressing kisses into the king’s dark hair. “You can’t start thinking that way. You’ll drive yourself crazy like that, especially when there’s no way to go back down that road now, not even with Umbra.”  
  
Noctis nodded, clutching Prompto’s shirt a little tighter. He suddenly wished more than ever that Umbra still offered him that option to go back in time—to fix things, to finish quests he’d left undone, to spend more time with his friends. Ever since he’d come back from the final battle, Umbra seemed to have lost the ability to transport him back.  
  
But imagine if he hadn’t. Would that have meant Noct would never _really _have to spend a day without Prompto after he was gone? Could he have travelled back and relived their days together? Or would he have travelled back in time, only to find Prompto no longer existed there either? He shivered at the thought. Maybe he was better off not knowing.

“Besides, you worry too much.”

“No, I don’t,” Noct grimaced.

“You usually keep it inside, but yeah, you do,” Prompto insisted. Noctis opened his mouth to retort, but when he found he had nothing to retort with, he merely gave a meek nod against Prompto.

“Maybe that’s what makes it so much worse. The fact that I never tell anyone what I’m thinking. When I finally reach that point, so much has already piled up in my mind that I find I’m an absolute mess.”

“But you don’t have to keep all these worries from me. They’re probably all things that I’ve thought of before, too, so we should just talk them out together. We’re both scared, and neither one of us knows what the future’s going to hold, so we should be especially sure that we don’t shut each other out at a time like this.”  
  
Noct tilted his head to press a few kisses to Prompto’s chest, and he felt a hand rub against his back in thanks.

“So, when we get back to the Citadel…. Maybe we should _both _look into your condition? Just sit down and really read over the info we have?” the king asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll call Ignis in the morning. He helped look into your condition in the first place, right? I’ll see what he can dig up for us.”

“Sounds good, Noct. He might still have the original documents they found in the magitek facility. It might give us some more clues as to what’s going to happen,” Prompto said, with a small smile. It may have scared him, too, but he knew it was a step they both needed to take. The more they knew, the more prepared they would be, and the easier this whole process might become.

“You know what else has to happen when we get back home?”

“What?” Prompto asked, curiously.

“We have to tell everyone we’re getting married,” Noct announced, and Prompto could hear that slightly giddy tone in Noct’s voice that let him know his partner was more excited than nervous.  
  
Prompto repeated the words in his head. _Getting married. He and Noctis were getting married. He was going to be married to Noctis._ The unbelievably wonderful thought made him laugh, and Noctis lifted his head to beam softly at Prompto’s easy grin. He reached a hand out to briefly tousle blond bangs.  
  
“Can’t wait to tell people. The guys, Aranea, Cindy... Oh, and Fae is gonna be so excited,” Prompto smiled, eyes hazy as he pictured how happy some of their friends would be.

He found himself wondering what it would be like to accompany Noct during his meetings in the audience hall. He thought about eating meals together in the elegant dining room, of driving to special events in the back seat of a fancy car, both dressed in the most regal attire. He pictured how proud he would be standing behind King Noctis, supporting him as he made some grand speech on the balcony of the Citadel. He wondered if King Regis would have been proud of them as well.

“_I’m_ excited,” Noctis softly uttered, still smiling.

“Me, too,” Prompto whispered as Noctis tenderly met his lips. They pulled back with hazy eyes and soft smiles before Noctis settled his head back down on Prompto’s chest, his fingers resting atop the skin where he could feel the thumping of his heart underneath.

“So, are we going to see your parents tomorrow?” Noctis felt that pulse speed up a little at the question.

“Y-yeah, I guess so.”

“Nervous?”

“Totally,” Prompto sighed.

“You don’t have to go if you’re not ready.” Noctis wanted to make sure he knew that, and Prompto silently thanked him for it with a gentle rub against his back.

“I know, but... I think this is something I have to do, whether or not I feel ready. My plan was just to thank them and make sure they’re okay, right? How hard can that be?” Prompto grinned, but Noctis could feel how tense his body was beneath him, and he tilted his nose in to brush against the soft skin of Prompto’s neck, hoping the caress would soothe him.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but... I’m afraid some part of you is still hoping to find acceptance from them,” Noctis cautiously said. Prompto bit his tongue, shocked that despite him never saying those words aloud in all their years together, Noctis had still known the thoughts he’d kept behind his walls. After a minute, Prompto let out a nervous puff of air, which came out sounding like a weak chuckle.

“And I understand why you might still be searching for that, but... What if it’s something they can’t give you? Will you still be okay?” Noctis went on, brows curving upward in worry.  
  
Prompto stared down at the black head of hair on his chest, at the hand that traced circles on his skin. He knew Noctis was being as gentle as he could with his delivery; he recognized it by the way he kept his head turned timidly away from his gaze. Prompto gave Noctis a squeeze in his arms, thanking him.

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, sure, it’d be awfully nice if they_ did_ accept me... if they could see the man I’ve grown into, but you’re right. It’s possible they’re just not capable of that kind of love,” Prompto acknowledged, and Noctis’ expression softened at the slightly wounded sound of Prompto’s voice.

“It’s not a reflection on you. You know that, right?” Noctis lifted his head now, needing Prompto to see the conviction in his eyes, but there were so many more emotions swimming in Prompto’s—fear, uncertainty, pain. Noctis wanted to take them all away. He wished—_hoped_—that his love could be enough to take them away.

“I don’t know. I feel like this thing drove them away,” Prompto said, with a half-hearted chuckle, raising his tattooed wrist, and trying not to feel scorn for those lines and numbers.

“I thought you were okay with your barcode now,” Noctis frowned.

“I am. At least, mostly. But I think you’re right, Noct. When it comes to my parents, I’m _not_ okay with this mark. I feel like it’s the thing that divided us,” Prompto whispered, voice meek as he stared at the black ink.

“Well, if that’s what drove them away, then they don’t deserve you, anyway. That mark is just a tiny part of you. It doesn’t _define _you,” Noctis announced, confidently, eyes still filled with a sternness, a look of persuasion. “You’re incredible, Prompto.”

Prompto’s expression shifted into one of admiration, and he smiled softly as he touched his index finger to the end of his king’s nose.

“And _you _are _biased_,” he teased, voice high-pitched and words accentuated.

“Don’t believe me? Just ask your friends what they think of you, then. You think Ignis or Gladio cared when they found out you were made in that lab? You think Talcott or Fae think any less of you for it? Or Aranea or Cindy? Or your friends in Meldacio? Every one of us loves you for all the things you are—the strong, caring, funny, camera-crazy, chocobo-loving guy you are. You _are good enough_, Prompto,” Noctis promised, and this time, Prompto couldn’t hold back the smile that came to his lips, nor the light that filled his heart, the joy that made him feel like he was floating. He reached out to ruffle the back of Noctis’ hair, smile soft and genuine.

“Man, if you’d told me all this on the motel rooftop all those years ago, you probably would have had me in tears.”

“Happy tears, I hope,” Noct said, his tone still serious like he wasn’t sure of the answer. Prompto nodded, fingers threading through ebony locks.

“Very happy tears,” Prompto smiled.  
  
Noctis closed his eyes as a kiss was pressed to his forehead, and the two of them lingered there, lost in the moment, letting themselves drown in it. It wasn’t the kind of physical contact Prompto had been seeking lately, but perhaps it was something that he’d needed even more tonight, something he hadn’t realized he’d needed.

“Thank you, Noct.” He felt the tug of stubble on his shirt as Noct smiled against his chest.

“You’re welcome. Just know that whatever happens with your parents tomorrow, you’re not alone,” Noctis assured him, and as eyes met again, Prompto was confident that he could handle whatever came his way. He had survived a decade without his beloved prince, but he didn’t have to fight all of his battles alone anymore; Noctis was here for him, of his own will. Noctis—he was enough, too. More than enough.


	21. Origins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger warning - There are brief mentions of depression and miscarriage in this chapter, so please skim over if you need to. Thanks!

“So, this is the place, huh? We’re sure this is it?” Prompto asked. His voice was low and uncertain, his brows twisted up anxiously as he stared at the quaint little home. From the outside, it closely resembled that of the one Prompto and his parents used to live in, being roughly the same colour and size.

“Yeah, this is where Iris said,” Noct confirmed, double-checking the address on his phone just to be sure.

“Alright then. Let’s do this,” Prompto announced, taking a determined stride forward. Noctis caught his arm before he could get very far.

“Prom, if this is something you’d rather do alone...”

“No. I’d prefer it if you tagged along,” Prompto assured him, gaze still fixed on the house. His voice contained hints of unease that made Noctis aware of how nervous he was. Noct gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

“Then I’m with you all the way,” he promised, letting go only when Prompto was ready to continue on.   
  
They made their way up the cobblestone path to the small house, and Prompto led the way to the door. Finding his confidence somewhere deep within him, he knocked three times, hearing footsteps approach seconds later. He realized he was holding his breath, and yet, he couldn’t force himself to exhale—not until he saw his parents. Not until he knew whether they were going to invite him in or chase him to the curb. He was glad Noctis was with him; he would undoubtedly make things easier, no matter how this turned out.

It seemed like an eternity before the door opened to reveal an aged woman, whose black hair—sprinkled with grey—was tied up into a loose bun. She wore an apron dirtied with a smattering of flour and paste, though Prompto couldn’t remember the last time she had cooked him a meal herself.

“Prompto?” she squinted, holding the heavy door open as she stared dumbfounded at the man before her. Prompto shrugged sheepishly.

“It’s me, Mom. I’m really here.”   
  
The woman’s gaze softened as she took in his older features, which to this day held no hostility towards her, despite what she might have deserved. She glanced back inside the house, probably searching for Prompto’s father, but wasn’t near enough to catch his attention.

“How did you find us?” the woman asked, turning back to her guests, reluctantly accepting that she wouldn’t have backup at the moment. The question had come out sounding a little accusing, but Prompto tried not to let it bother him, as that had always been his parents’ way: cold and very abrupt.

“A friend looked into it for me. I just… really wanted to see you, and make sure you were okay after Insomnia fell,” Prompto explained, but the woman’s eyes had wandered away from him during that last sentence, focusing on Noctis instead; Prompto wished they hadn’t. He’d wanted her to react to the fact that he cared for her and her husband.

“Is this the friend?”

“Oh, uh, no, but I’m partly to blame. I’m Noctis.” The king stepped forward and offered the woman a hand and a smile. She accepted the handshake, remaining stoic, her features maybe even showing a little fear now.

“Prince Noctis?” she quizzed

“Well, he’s_ King_ Noctis now, but yeah,” Prompto responded with a bob of his head.

“Right, of course. Please, come in, you two. It seems we have much to discuss.”   
  
She held the door open as Prompto entered with a quiet thank you, Noctis close behind him. She disappeared down the hall a moment later, and Prompto and Noctis began taking off their boots.

“Pax! We have visitors,” they heard the woman call out from within another room.

“Who is it?”

“Prompto.”

“Wha?”

“Prompto!”

Prompto tried not to cringe at the way she said his name. Back when he had lived with these people, he had never noticed just how void of sentiment their tones had been when they spoke to him, or even talked _about_ him. After having spent so much time with Noctis, however, he realized what had been missing all that time. Love. It was no wonder he’d been so lonely during the early part of his life.

He must have been wearing some sort of disgruntled expression, for he felt Noct’s hand on his back as he undid his laces.

“You can do this,” Noctis encouraged, and Prompto managed a glance up at him, his gentle eyes and tiny smile giving thanks. Prompto’s mother appeared before them again from an open doorway on the right, and gave them a wave to follow.

“This way.”

They were led into a large kitchen with high-end stainless steel appliances and granite counter-tops that must have cost a fortune. The tiling behind the counters was black and glossy, the walls painted a dark grey. Prompto wondered if this was why his parents had worked away so much while he was growing up; maybe they had been saving up to build a place like this. He promised himself they hadn’t been avoiding him simply because they didn’t want him—not that any of it mattered anymore, right?

The kitchen was modern and stylish, but its drab colours made the place feel more cold than homey. Prompto’s mother waved the men towards the dark, wooden table, but even the warmth of the velour-covered chairs didn’t fight off the chill.

“Thank you for inviting us into your home. Your place is lovely,” Noctis commented when Prompto seemed incapable of words. He was glancing around nervously, looking unsettled and sad.

“Nothing like the Citadel, I’m sure. Pax!” the woman called again, voice harsh.

“I’m on my way, Clara!” the distant voice of a man retorted in the same tone. A balding grey-haired man entered the kitchen, his face scrunching up when he set his eyes on Prompto.

“Hey, Dad. It’s… good to see you,” Prompto said, pushing forth a smile that he was sure still appeared nervous.   
  
Noctis carefully watched the interaction unfold, as Pax’s expression went from scowling to stoic. His lips pressed hard together as he came toward the table, his lips curling up at the corners ever so slightly. Noctis wondered if that was as close to a smile as he ever got; it was a far cry from Prompto’s wide and crooked grin. Pax patted his son on the shoulder before taking a seat in one of the chairs across from Prompto and Noctis.

“I’ll put on some tea,” Clara announced, hurrying over to the counter to prepare the water. Pax folded his hands atop the table, his scrutinizing eyes travelling from Noctis to Prompto.

“What brings you here?”

“W-well… Like I told Mom, I wanted to find you guys. I didn’t even know for sure if you two had survived the fall of Insomnia. I wanted to see for myself that you were okay,” Prompto explained. His hands rested in a position similar to his father’s, but he rubbed his own a bit more anxiously. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“How did _you _survive the fall?” Pax inquired.

“Remember I told you I was invited to be part of the royal retinue? To accompany Noctis on his journey to Altissia? Well, we’d already left Insomnia by that point. We were in Galdin when the attack happened,” Prompto explained. He could feel Noctis’ gentle eyes on him as he spoke, reminding him he wasn’t alone, and giving him the strength to keep going.

“Oh right. I forgot about that,” Clara mused from her position at the counter a few feet away.

“Clara, you didn’t even _believe_ him when he said he’d been invited,” Pax frowned, and Prompto lowered his head. He’d figured as much. She had always given his stories about Noctis very little attention, as if they were untrue or simply unimportant.   
  
Looking back now, he wondered why he’d fought so hard to earn their support. It seemed like so difficult a task. These people clearly didn’t place the same value on family as Prompto did, but it only took him a moment’s reflection to understood why he _had _fought. Like Noctis had implied the night before, he was probably here now for the exact same reason: validation.

For some reason, it was almost instinctual for people to seek validation from their parents. No, Pax and Clara weren’t his own flesh and blood—he didn’t even want to think about his real flesh and blood, as that was an even worse scenario—but they were his family.  He loved them, and simply wanted the comfort of knowing that they loved him, too.

“Of course, I believed him,” the woman defended herself. Pax rolled his eyes and shook his head. With that almost-smile of his, he turned his attention back to Prompto.

“We were scared you didn’t make it out alive. We tried to call you that day, but didn’t get an answer,” the man explained.

“What? Really?” Prompto blinked. “I wonder how I missed…” Then it occurred to him.   
  
He remembered it clearly—standing atop the cliff overlooking Insomnia, drenched from the pouring rain. He remembered how he’d turned his phone on to listen to the reports and had clumsily dropped it. He remembered his abashment as Ignis had knelt down to pick the device up for him and had handed it over with annoyance. He could remember the gravelly timbre of Noct’s voice as he’d hollered, the look of utmost grief on his face.   
  
He could also remember checking his phone hours later and realizing he’d knocked his phone battery loose when he’d dropped it. His parents had probably called during that time—if they were to be believed, that is. Any parent who really cared for their child wouldn’t have given up so quickly; they would have kept calling for days in hopes that he was alive.

“Actually, my phone was dead for a while that day. I’m really sorry I missed your call,” Prompto said, though he wasn’t sure whether that call would have made things better or not. His mind had been muddled enough as it was that day. Besides, part of him would have felt guilty knowing his parents had survived while Noctis’ father hadn’t.

“It’s all in the past now,” Pax shrugged.

“So, I guess this doesn’t really matter now since it’s all in the past, too, but…” Prompto trailed off, his fingers brushing over the mark on his wrist, exposed for the world to see.

“About my barcode. You guys knew everything, didn’t you?” he asked softly, making sure his tone was more inquisitive than accusatory. His parents exchanged a wary glance, but his mother turned back toward the kettle, leaving his father to continue with the talking.

“We knew. When the Crown asked us to take you in, they explained everything. That you were from Niflheim, that you were part of those inhumane experiments, that you were cut from the same cloth as those magitek troopers.”

“Whose idea was it for me to hide this?” Prompto inquired, eyes flickering down to the black ink on his arm.

“The Crown believed it would keep you safe. From ridicule as well as from those familiar with the goings-on in Niflheim. There were those who would have tried to harm you. We agreed with those thoughts.”

“And… maybe I have no right to ask this, but… Was this why you two were away so much? Were you afraid of me? Or ashamed of me?” Prompto tried, and Noctis could hear the sudden feebleness of his voice. He reached for his knee under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze, letting him know he was there.   
  
Pax’s eyes shifted nervously back and forth. Clara’s wary gaze wandered toward the visitors at the table.

“When you started getting close to Prince Noctis,” Pax started, with a glance at the dark-haired man. They hadn’t been introduced thus far, but he was keen enough to know that the king of Lucis was sitting in his kitchen. “We started to worry.”

“Why?” Prompto pressed, brows tugging downward in fear, but also in a need to know.   
  
He could tell his father was getting more antsy and tight-lipped by the second, but that only made him yearn more for these answers—answers that he hadn’t realized he’d wanted so badly until now. His father gave a heavy sigh, his frown deepening. He didn’t particularly want to say these things, but Prompto was asking for them. He wanted the truth.

“Your mother and I were worried we would get into trouble if you got too involved with the prince. You were created to be an enemy of Lucis, and we were concerned about what might happen if your friendship with Noctis was to become public knowledge. When the rumours emerged of your rapport with him being something even more, we panicked.”

“So, you fled? You… didn’t want anything to do with me?” Prompto’s voice was so solemn, it made Noctis’ heart flare with rage for these insensitive lowlifes. Prompto could feel Noctis’ tension rising, especially when it seemed his father had no more to say. He saw the king open his mouth to speak, but he quickly put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Noct, it’s okay,” Prompto murmured, and Noctis forced himself to take a calming breath.   
  
There were a lot of things he wanted to say, but if Prompto didn’t want or need defending, then he should probably keep quiet, even though every fibre of his being wanted to tell these people off. He wanted to yell at them, wanted to tell them all that they had missed out on by not getting to know the amazing person that was Prompto.

“What about before that? You and Mom were taking trips long before that. Was there really that much work out there that you couldn’t get in Lucis? And why not just take me with you?”

Prompto honestly hadn’t meant for this visit to become an interrogation, but now that he was here, he could feel all the hurt pouring back into him. He knew in his heart he wouldn’t be coming back here. This was his last chance for answers, and he wanted them regardless of how much they hurt. He didn’t want to die with any regrets, with any questions left unanswered. He could take the pain if it meant he didn’t have to wonder anymore.

“We failed you, okay, Prompto? Is that what you want to hear?” Clara demanded, drawing all eyes to her. Prompto raised his hands in surrender.

“No! That’s not… I just want to _understand_,” he pleaded.

“Fine,” she huffed. Deep frown lines appeared between her brows—probably from years of wearing such a stern expression. “We were scared. We were scared of your origins, of what sorts of trouble your history might cause. We were hiding a Niff, and we didn’t want to find out what sorts of repercussions might come from that.”   
  
Clara's tone was harsh, but her words were harsher, and Prompto swallowed hard. He told himself he had asked for this. He had to accept it.

“Alright,” Prompto said, simply, giving the woman a small nod. “That’s all I wanted to know.” He calmly stood up from the table, Noctis watching him intently, wide-eyed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

“Hold on,” Noctis insisted, standing up alongside his companion. He lowered his voice as he turned his head toward him. “You didn’t come all this way just for this, did you?”   
  
Blue eyes met violet ones in a long stare, lingering until the tremoring violet appeared calm.

“You’re right,” Prompto breathed, settling himself enough to sit down again. He and Noct both knew how much the truth could hurt, but they also knew how important it was to keep fighting, to stay strong, and so he would.

“When Noct and I talked of coming here, I said I wanted to thank you both for taking me in, and that remains true. Maybe even more so after what you just told me. I understand the risks you took to accept me into your home, and even if our relationship wasn’t ideal, I’m still grateful,” Prompto vowed, placing a hand over his heart, and Noctis bowed his head in a long nod, supporting what he had to say with gently closed eyes.

Pax and Clara locked gazes, expressions wrinkled with a mix of confusion and disbelief at first, then those expressions softened. Pax reached across the table, his fingers clasping over the back of Prompto’s hand. Prompto looked up and met his father’s eyes, their yellow-green depths gentler than he’d ever seen them. His mouth was curved up into a small but unmistakable smile this time, and Prompto’s lips parted in surprise.

“Thank you,” Pax murmured. “You’ve truly grown into a kind and honorable man.”

“Thank you, sir,” Prompto nodded, and Pax’s heart twinged at the idea that he might have lost the privilege of being called ‘Dad’.   
  
Pax turned his gaze to the king, looking like he was silently pleading for Noctis to help out. Noctis wet his lips, feeling unsure of whether he should contribute to the conversation. He didn’t want to say anything to make Prompto uncomfortable, anything to make him feel worse than he already did. His best bet here was probably to praise Prompto up, right?

“You should know that Prompto saved a lot of lives while the world was in darkness. He saved a lot of lives while he was part of my entourage as well. You should be very proud of your son,” Noct smiled, gently. Pax reciprocated the smile, but Clara hurried out of the room, clasping a hand over her mouth.

“Mom!” Prompto instinctively called out. He’d always hated seeing her upset. It had been a common occurrence with her, though. He used to try to comfort her when he was a child, but eventually realized there was little he could do besides give her hugs that she didn’t seem to want. The older Prompto had gotten, the more he’d suspected she suffered from some sort of depression.

“You’ll have to excuse Clara. Seeing you again is probably very hard on her,” Pax explained. With a small, apologetic smile he got up from his seat and went to fetch the tea, which he figured had probably steeped enough by now.  
  
Prompto and Noctis reached for a couple of the coloured mugs that were arranged upside down in a small circle on the table. They flipped them over and waited patiently for the man to pour some of the hot liquid into their cups. Pax poured a cup for himself before returning the teapot to the stove. He took a wooden tray out from one of the cupboards and got out a small milk pitcher and sugar dish, setting them down on the tray with a couple of spoons before returning to the table.

“Want me to pour?” Noct tenderly asked Prompto, tilting his head towards him, eyes gentle. Prompto nodded, watching as Noct poured a little milk from the pitcher into both of their cups.

“Pax?” he asked.

“No milk for me, Your Majesty. Thanks.”   
  
Noctis set the pitcher down, and reached for a spoon, scooping in a good five or six lumps of sugar, making Prompto release a small hum of laughter; he’d needed that bit of relief. Pax watched the king in what looked like slight amusement.

“So, what did you mean when you said it was probably hard on Clara to see Prompto again?” Noct tried, knowing Prompto probably wanted to ask, but felt it would be out of line to do so. Pax averted his gaze, staring into his cup of black tea.

“She’s struggled over the years, feeling guilty because she lacked a maternal instinct. It’s not her fault. It’s just something not quite right in her mind,” Pax explained, and Prompto nodded, not completely surprised by the information.

“We thought you had died in the fall of Insomnia, and we were filled with regret. We were never there for you, Prompto. We hid from you. We were afraid to officially adopt you as our own. We failed you your entire life, and when we thought you had died in that city because we had left you behind… It shattered us both.”

“So, Clara regrets not being a proper mother to Prompto?” Noct quizzed, and Prompto cringed a little at the abruptness of the question. Pax swallowed a mouthful of tea that went down painfully hard.

“I suppose you should know the whole truth. Clara had a miscarriage only a year before we took you in. She was devastated by the loss. We were planning to name our little boy Prompto, and when you came into our lives, we gave you his name. Perhaps we shouldn’t have, as it was a reminder of what could have been, and… I’m afraid Clara became resentful of that. I think that’s why she couldn’t bring herself to properly care for you.”

“How painful for her,” Prompto softly acknowledged, never having realized what his parents had gone through before he’d arrived.

“She didn’t know how to deal with the grief back then, and now she regrets that she didn’t find the help she needed to cope. Doing so would have perhaps allowed her to open up more to the kindhearted little boy we took in,” he said, with a tender look at Prompto.

“And what about yourself? Couldn’t you have opened up a little more, too?” Noct went on.   
  
Although he wanted to accuse this man of every wrong he’d done Prompto, he tried not to let himself become fierce. He could feel Prompto’s eyes on him, his head low and wary. Prompto did desperately want these answers, however, and if he didn’t feel like he was in a position to ask them, why not let Noct do the talking for him? It was now or never.

“I, too, carry much regret. Clara was so unwell back then, and being at home—frightened of the consequences of our position with Prompto—made her as uncomfortable as it did me. So, it seemed the logical thing to do was to continue working away from Insomnia. It lessened the tension for both of us. I hate to admit it, but I was nothing short of a coward,” Pax announced, lowering his own head. Noct released a scoff that he didn’t mean to let slip, and he felt Prompto’s hand on his arm a second later, settling him.

“Noct, don’t. It’s okay,” he yet again assured him.   
  
Noct was fighting hard to keep his cool, when all he really wanted to do was tell this man how much his actions had damaged Prompto’s self esteem. He wanted to tell him that yes, he was a coward, and that anyone who wanted to call themselves a parent had to also be there for their kid, whenever they needed them.   
  
But no. No one had ever been there for Prompto. Not a single soul—not until Pryna, the little injured puppy that he’d nursed back to health; not until that letter came from Luna, thanking him for what he’d done for Pryna. And then, thanks to Luna, there had been Noctis. He was the one who had changed everything. He was the one who’d helped Prompto see his worth, the first person to have the benefit of knowing him, of loving him.   
  
Noctis wanted to dish out all of these thoughts, hollering with harsh words and defending Prompto until he was hoarse, but Pax already looked defeated. Perhaps he already knew he’d missed out on an opportunity to know an incredible person.

“We were paid to take care of you, Prompto, but if anyone had been checking in, they probably would have deemed us unfit parents. Both of us were suffering from the grief of losing our own child, and we both struggled to connect with you for that reason as well as your origins. You shouldn't have been given to us, son. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not here to place blame, Dad. Really, I never intended our meeting to end up like this,” Prompto spoke up, thankfully settling Noct again for the time being. “I’m grateful to understand the situation a lot better now. Besides, I still loved you guys, even if things weren’t ideal. And honestly, when Noct and I came here today, it was really just to check in and see how you were doing, because I… I probably won’t be coming back here,” Prompto announced, his voice gaining a remorseful tone, making his father frown in concern.

“What do you mean?”

“Look, I don’t know how much you learned about the magitek troopers, but they weren’t made to live very long lives. Just long enough to fulfill their role in battle, and not much beyond that. Sadly, it looks like that’s the same case for me,” Prompto explained, and his father’s eyes widened, his features stiffening with what appeared to be genuine worry.

“You don’t mean…”

“Yeah. My body wasn’t made to hold up as long as yours or Noct’s. That’s actually why Noct and I are on this trip right now. We’re kind of just… crossing things off the ol’ bucket list,” Prompto said in a sing-song little voice, giving a playful swing of his fist. His father remained in shock, while Noct took a sip of his tea, hoping it might prevent him from dwelling on Prompto’s words—words that still made him ache, no matter how many times he heard them.

“I’m not really sure how much time I’ve got left. Maybe eight years, give or take a few? But we probably won’t be doing much travelling once we get back to Insomnia, because we’re both gonna have a lot of duties, and—” Prompto continued on, waving his hand casually as he spoke. The tiny, sparkling diamonds on Prompto’s finger caught his father’s attention, and Pax found himself putting two and two together.

“What duties? Is that—? Are you engaged?” Pax inquired, tilting his head sideways to get a better view of the ring. Prompto stopped his hand in mid-motion, his eyes travelling directly to the piece of jewelry that his father had so keenly observed.

“Um, yeah,” Prompto smiled, nervously, and offered his hand to his father to take a closer look at the silver, jewel-encrusted band. Prompto cast a glance at Noctis, who turned his head to beam proudly at him.

“This little boy is getting to marry his prince,” Prompto announced, and his father gently grasped his hand, analyzing the beautiful ring. It was of Lucian make; Pax could tell from its shimmer that it was made of the finest white gold. After a moment, his eyes flickered upward, and he glanced between the men.

“You two are getting married?” Pax questioned, and with his expression still indicating nothing but surprise, Prompto wasn’t quite sure how to read him. Noctis reached for Prompto’s free hand atop the table, and squeezed it gently, confirming Pax’s suspicions. Prompto turned to Noct with a smile before his gaze returned to his father.

“I’m really happy, Dad,” Prompto beamed softly, hoping it would put at least one of his troubled parents at ease. Of course, maybe that was a juvenile dream. Hadn’t his parents’ concerns _grown_ when they’d heard those rumours about him and Noct being more than just friends?

He could remember them asking some in-depth questions about Noctis once, and Prompto had known at the time that they were suspicious. They had asked if he and Noct were very close, and why Prompto often chose to stay the night at Noct’s apartment instead of coming home. He’d known they were closing in on his secret, but he’d denied all the implications, and had played off every question in a casual manner—like, of course he and Noct were close because they were best friends, and it made more sense to stay at his apartment than walking home alone at night. Besides, his parents were distant enough as it was. The last thing they would want was a boy who liked other boys—his crush being _a prince_, at that. Or, that’s what he’d believed about them anyway.

Pax clasped his other hand on top of Prompto’s ringed finger, patting his hand gently before letting go. Back when those rumours of Noctis’ relationship with Prompto had been in the media, he and Clara had been scared of what kind of trouble might arise from it, but those days had passed. The world was a different place now. Nations weren’t at war. Noctis was a king, not a mere prince. The two boys before him were adults, and could make their own decisions. Pax’s eyes met Prompto’s, and once again, they transformed from stern to gentle.

“You deserve happiness, Prompto,” Pax promised him. It wasn’t much, but it was acceptance nonetheless. Prompto released a breath of relief. He turned to his partner with slight surprise, and Noct gave him an encouraging smile.

“Thanks, Dad,” Prompto beamed. “That means a lot.”

* * *

The next half hour passed quickly, with Pax showing quite an interest in what sorts of tasks Prompto would be expected to take on as consort, and what plans Noctis had for the restoration of Lucis. They also talked a bit about the roadtrip and Prompto’s time as a hunter. Before they knew it, they had drained their teacups, and the silences between conversation grew longer.

“Listen, it’s been really great visiting with you. It’s a big load off my mind to have been able to do this,” Prompto said, standing up from the table with a smile. He gathered all the mugs and spoons the three of them had used, and set them down on the tray, hoping to be of at least a little assistance in the cleanup before he left.

“It’s a relief for me as well, to see you alive and so happy,” his father replied, honestly. He hoped that now, all those nightmares of watching a younger version of his son being crushed by crumbling, burning buildings or shot down by imperial soldiers would vanish forever. His guilt might never leave, but maybe it was no longer necessary for those painful reminders of his past mistakes to linger.

Prompto met his father’s eyes, and granted him a gentle smile.

“I _am_ happy,” he promised him, and felt Noct beaming at him as he carried the tray to the counter. Pax and Noctis followed Prompto’s lead and got up from their seats. Pax then escorted them down the hall and back out to the porch where they’d entered.

“I know you said you wouldn’t be back, but just know that if you were to travel in this direction again, you would be welcome. Both of you,” Pax announced, and Prompto looked up from his boots with a smile.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Where are you off to next?”

“Well, we talked about hitting up the Gralean market after this. See what sorts of cool trinkets they have for sale,” Prompto said, finishing with his boot laces a second before Noctis did.

“In that case, remember to bundle up. It gets chilly out there.”

“Will do!” Prompto grinned.

“Thanks again for your hospitality, Pax,” Noctis smiled. “It was nice to meet you.” He outstretched a hand and Pax took it, giving it a firm and appreciative shake.

“Oh! And before I forget…” Prompto reached into the inside pocket of his coat, retrieving a small stack of photos. He pressed his hands against the edges, neatening up the stack before handing it over to his father.

“These are just a few pictures I took from my journey with Noct and the guys. I thought you might like to see some of the cool places we went. If you don’t like ‘em, you can just toss ‘em when you’re done,” Prompto shrugged, though he maintained his smile.   
  
Of course, his parents had never shown a great interest in his photography, but now that the tensions caused by raising him were no longer an issue, maybe they would truly be able to appreciate the photos, and see the proof of his journey in a different light. If nothing else, they might enjoy the background scenery.

“Thank you, my boy. I’ll make sure your mother gets to see these as well.”

“Thanks,” Prompto smiled, then placed his hands on his hips. “Well, I guess we’re off.”

“Take care. Both of you. I’ll be watching for your wedding on the news,” Pax said, with that small smile of his.

“Thanks. You and Mom take care, too. Bye, Dad.” Prompto waved as he exited, and Noctis moved to follow, but Pax outstretched a hand. Noctis accepted it, expecting another friendly handshake. To his surprise, Pax pulled him in close enough to whisper something in his ear.

“Your Majesty, if it’s true that he’s not going to make it… M-maybe I don’t have the right to ask this of you, but please, ensure that he’s not alone through it all,” Pax quietly begged, and Noctis knew it was coming from a place of worry and guilt—even _love_. He and Clara had left Prompto alone for far too much of his life, and he didn’t want to see his son leave this life as lonely as he had entered into it. Noctis squeezed the man’s hand.

“I promise you, Pax, I will be beside him every step of the way.”

“You have my thanks, Your Majesty.”

“Noct?” Prompto called from outside, peeking his head back in the doorway when he realized he was no longer being followed. Noctis pulled back and gave Pax one last smile before heading for the door.

“What was that about?” Prompto asked suspiciously, as Pax quietly closed the door behind them. Noctis simply laced his hand with Prompto’s as they headed back into the city.

“He really does care about you,” Noct smiled, and Prompto was too mentally exhausted to be anything but satisfied with that answer.

* * *

Prompto was quiet as they walked through the snowy street, weaving through rows of vendor tables. Every once in a while he would point and comment at something on display, but Noctis wasn’t sure he was really taking everything in—not that he could blame him after the events of the afternoon. Eventually, as they stood in line to see one of the booths, Noctis’ hand wandered to the small of Prompto’s back, the warmth of it settling against his spine and calming him.

“Are you okay with how things went at your parents’ place?” Noct asked, standing close behind his companion. Prompto turned to meet his worried eyes, his small smile glowing with just enough contentment to put Noctis at ease.

“Yeah. I think I am. Leading up to this, I wouldn’t let myself imagine how it might go, because I didn’t want it to fall short of what I was picturing. But, honestly? I think it went better than I expected,” Prompto divulged, feeling a little lightheaded as the adrenaline from talking about his parents rushed back into his veins.   
  
He used to get so nervous talking about them. The way they had mistreated him was so very personal, he’d actually felt ashamed by it. That nervousness had never completely faded, but over time, he had become more and more comfortable sharing those experiences with Noctis.

“Even though your mom...?” Noctis trailed off, and Prompto nodded, understanding the rest of his sentence without him saying anything more.

“It’s fine. I’m sure Dad will pass along anything he feels she should know. Anything he feels she can handle,” Prompto shrugged.   
  
Noctis took a moment to drink in his partner’s confident expression. So, Prompto was okay with never making amends with his mother? He was fine not knowing if she ever found out about his condition?

“Patching things up with even one of my parents is more than I ever hoped for. I’m good. Promise,” Prompto smiled. Once Noctis was confident that Prompto was truly okay, he allowed himself to smile in return.

“I’m proud of what you did today.”   
  
Prompto met his eyes, slightly surprised by his earnest tone. Their gazes locked and lingered, and after a long minute of drinking in Noctis’ words and genuine expression, Prompto’s fingers extended to graze the underside of Noct’s chin. Delicately, he guided their lips together, kissing Noctis over his shoulder. It wasn’t merely a show of thanks, but rather a gesture of the deepest gratitude—for what Noct had said, for Noct sticking by him today and always, and for settling his weary mind like he always did.   
  
Noctis could sense that this contact was different than usual, could feel how careful Prompto was being with him, like he was scared to break the serenity of the moment. They were deaf to the noise of the surrounding crowd, the two of them feeling like they were encased in glass, away from the world, blessed with this moment alone.   
  
Wanting to end the kiss before the moment shattered like the imaginary glass, Prompto pulled away slowly, eyes drifting open to see that Noctis’ were still peacefully closed. He moved his hand up to brush over Noct’s stubbly cheek, smiling tenderly to himself. When Noctis opened his eyes, he reciprocated the smile.

“I’m proud of_ us_,” Prompto said, and Noctis patted his back before he turned to face the front of the lineup again.

“Excuse me, sir?” came a female voice from beside them. A hand tapped on Prompto’s shoulder, and he jumped and flushed, knowing he and Noct had probably just been caught in the act. He hoped they weren’t about to get in trouble for their shameless PDA.

“I was told to give you a message. She says thank you for the pictures, and congratulations on your engagement,” the young girl announced, a grey toque pulled over her long, straight, brown hair. Prompto couldn’t say he recognized her.

“Um, okay, thanks. Who did you say told you to talk to me?” Prompto asked, giving her a confused little grin. She turned behind her and pointed to the brick wall of one of the alleyways.

“That woman over there,” she explained. Prompto’s stomach wrenched as he spotted Clara by the wall, bundled up in a long coat and scarf.

“Th-thank you,” Prompto managed to stutter out, though his gaze didn’t leave his mother who stood across the way.

“No problem,” the girl smiled before sauntering away. Noct moved in a little closer to Prompto, his arm weaving tighter around him as he stood beside him now.

“Is that...?”

“Yeah,” Prompto smiled, voice weak with emotion and disbelief.   
  
Bravely, he raised a hand and gave a wave, hoping to catch his mother’s attention. Clara had been watching all the while with her head tilted downward, her mouth nestled into the warmth and safety of her scarf. She waved back, her eyebrows relaxing in a way that let Prompto know she was smiling, too, and then she walked off, disappearing into the crowd.

“Wow. Didn’t expect that,” Noct commented, eyes still fixed on the spot in the crowd where he’d lost sight of her.

“Definitely not,” Prompto breathed.

“You still okay?”

“Yeah, but maybe we should take a break. I’m kind of drained.”

“No problem. What do you say we get a couple of snow cones and sit for a while?” Noctis suggested, craning his neck to peer over the crowd and locate the booth where he’d been drooling over the sugary treats earlier.

“You know? I think that’s exactly what I need,” Prompto grinned in relief.

* * *

Noctis offered to stand in line and wait for the snow cones so Prompto could relax on a nearby bench. The bench was situated on an outlook, where Prompto could gaze out over another section of Gralea below. The homes and buildings looked like something out of a fairytale, with their rooves covered in a few inches of snow, making them look like gingerbread houses. Everything was so white and beautiful, snow glistening with tiny spectrums everywhere Prompto looked.   
  
Maybe Noct had been right about bringing him here. He had never hated Niflheim, but he realized that part of him had always been scared of where he’d come from. He’d been afraid that he’d come from a place full of violence, full of fire and hate, but it wasn’t like that at all. Prompto actually felt at ease here, like he would have been okay to call this home. After all, he’d always loved the snow.

Noctis returned before long, carrying two blueberry-flavoured snow cones. He offered Prompto’s to him with a smile, and sat down beside him as they both began to munch on the flavourful chunks of ice.

“You know, it’s weird. I used to imagine what it would be like to come home. Back when I was a kid, I always wondered if coming here might make me remember something about my real parents. I thought it might trigger my memories,” Prompto said, softly, gazing out over the city. Noctis watched him carefully, wondering if he was disappointed that that fantasy had never come true, for he’d never even had the ‘real’ parents he had once dreamed of.

”Coming here now, it all feels a little empty in that way, but I _do_ have a story here. And maybe it’s not the one I’d once hoped for, but it’s also not the one I dreaded either. I really am a child of two nations, and maybe that’s an even more important story to tell than the one of the little boy who found his real parents,” he finished.

“So, you’re okay?”

“Yeah. The way I was born… it doesn’t make me a bad person.”

“Definitely not,” Noctis promised him, smiling softly in assurance.   
  
Prompto breathed in and let out a relaxed sigh, leaning in slightly against Noctis’ side. There was comfort in the closeness, and in the knowledge that his origins were one thing that wouldn’t ever affect how Noctis felt about him. And if that was the case, then maybe the rest of the world wouldn’t mind so much either.

“This trip has been pretty perfect, Noct. I kind of don’t want to go home.”

“Hey, who said anything about going home? The fun’s just beginning.”  
  
“Well, I know you told everyone we’d be gone for a few weeks, but we kind of already visited the places I mentioned on my list,” Prompto shrugged, looking almost apologetic, like he regretted dragging the king away from his work. Noct gave him a glance, indicating he should have known better.

“Yeah, but there’s no reason to rush home. We’ve still got the hotel here booked for a few more nights. And if you don’t mind, I have a few ideas of my own to add to your list.”

“Really?” Prompto quizzed, lifting a brow as he stared with innocent curiosity at Noctis. “Like what?”

“Like, you’ll have to wait and see,” Noctis smirked, touching the end of his snow cone to the tip of Prompto’s nose, making him give a squeak.   
  
Prompto rubbed his nose clean with his mitten before grinning wildly at his wonderfully spontaneous fiancé. Noctis lowered his head slightly, staring at Prompto with alluring eyes, which drew him in like magic. They kissed under the softly falling snow, ready to treasure every moment of this adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was so delayed! It's been quite a busy summer. I brought home a new puppy just over a month ago, so my life has kind of been revolving around him lately. He is adorable, though, so I say it's all worth it! Unfortunately, with college starting up again in a few days, I doubt things will get any less busy for me. The next few chapters still need some beefing up (and even require some completely new material that I'm very excited to write), so I know they will take a bit of work. 
> 
> That being said, I still fully intend to keep updating, but I think I should move to a monthly basis (the wait time may be a bit more or less depending on how much time I get to write and edit). I wish there were more hours in a day so I could keep up my regular pace, but I just don't think it's possible at this time. And I don't want to face burnout with this story. My goal is still to see this fic to completion!!
> 
> So, I just want to thank everyone for being so patient, and for giving your support with your kudos/comments/etc. It means so much that people are still enjoying this story, and I hope that continues to be the case as we continue through the coming months! Thank you so much for reading! Stay safe and take care everyone <3


	22. The Festival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I'm so relieved I got this chapter finished for my 'monthly-basis deadline'! I wrote over 3000 words in the last two days to get this one done, but I really enjoyed writing it. It's a pretty fluffy chapter, but I feel like in these crazy times, a little fluff is what we need! I hope you all enjoy, and thank you so much for sticking with me through this story!

Prompto awoke to the sunlight flickering in through the pleated hotel curtains, light illuminating his freckled cheeks. He smiled at the sight of Noctis, who was sitting forward in the armchair, dressed in a hoodie and puffer vest, ready for the cold day outside. Noct was intently reading the newspaper he held in his hands.

“G’morning, fiancé,” Prompto sleepily murmured, gaining his partner’s attention. Noctis glanced back at him, his surprised expression immediately warming into a smile.

“Good morning to _you_, fiancé,” he playfully beamed, springing up from the chair and plopping himself down on the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing up so early?” Prompto quizzed, hand moving to play with the double-zipper of Noctis’ vest.

“Just planning our day.”

“Ah, so you’ll get up early if you’re planning something for _me_. Not so much for the kingdom,” Prompto teased.

“Not true,” Noct shook his head. “It’s just that planning things for _you_ is a lot more fun.”

Prompto gave a still-tired grin and tugged at the man’s zipper pull, inviting Noctis to lean in towards him. Noctis obliged, letting his weight fall onto his elbow as he moved to lay on his side. Prompto slipped a hand into the back of Noct’s hair, pulling him into a kiss that Noct eagerly reciprocated. Noctis’ hand slithered under the covers and eased its way under the hem of Prompto’s tank top, the backs of his fingers grazing over his stomach. The kiss didn’t last long—just long enough to be satisfying without leaving them itching for something they couldn’t have.

“So,” Noct breathed as he pulled away. He gave Prompto a smile before reaching behind him and retrieving the newspaper that he had discarded on the armchair. He dropped it atop the covers for his companion to see. Prompto picked it up with tentative fingers.

“_Gralea’s __Snowfall __Festival_?” Prompto read, eyeing the picture on the cover. The photo showed a snow-covered street, decorated with small, artificial conifer trees, all decked out in multicoloured rope lights. In the background was a Ferris wheel, brilliantly lit up against the night sky.

“Yeah. What do you think?”

“I think it sounds awesome!”

“Really? Great! I was reading up on it this morning. Apparently, they’d always held the festival in the summer to celebrate the founding of Gralea, but ever since the Glacian changed the climate here, they changed it to a wintry sort of festival.”

“Sounds cool,” Prompto agreed, voice chipper.

“Cool. Parade starts at noon, so we’d better get moving if we want to get there in time.”

“I’ll hop in the shower.”

“And I’ll grab us a few breakfast sandwiches from the restaurant next door,” Noct grinned, giving Prompto a gentle squeeze in his arms before clambering off of the bed.

* * *

The festival was so packed, Noctis had a hard time finding a parking spot. Once they finally found one, they walked along the long street until they reached the place where the parade would be held. It started within minutes. A marching band led the way, their uniforms a beautiful blend of turquoises, purples, blues, and whites. The music was upbeat and spirited, and the viewers on the sidelines clapped along to the beat.

Elaborately decorated floats were pulled along by white chocobos, their feathers pristine and groomed to perfection. The spectacle of flashing lights and glimmering tinsel and beautiful portrayals of the Glacian was nothing like Prompto and Noctis had ever seen. On multiple occasions, Prompto felt himself reaching for his camera and snapping shots, feeling so grateful that his will to capture these precious moments in time had returned to him; he owed it all to Noctis.

Once the parade was over, they perused the small food stalls that lined the streets. They purchased some hot chocolate and a particularly delicious-looking cinnamon bun to share, and continued on their way, picking off tiny portions of the sweet treat and munching away as they walked.

“Oh, h-hey, look, Noct! Baby chocochicks!” Prompto pointed, fingers still sticky with icing from the cinnamon bun.

“Aw,” Noct grinned, spying a long bird cage up ahead, and two heads of white feathers. Prompto hooked their elbows together and dragged Noctis along, hurrying towards the cage. The grey-haired woman behind the birds—who appeared to be the exhibitor—smiled in amusement at Prompto’s enthusiasm.

“They’re so cute,” Prompto beamed, kneeling down in front of the chicks, moving so quickly he almost sent hot chocolate trickling out of his cup. One of the birds timidly shuffled towards him, its tiny head tilting to the side in curiosity as it peeked out at him with big, black eyes.

“Careful,” Noct playfully warned, as Prompto pressed a finger to the cage. “They’ll probably smell that cinnamon bun.”

“You’re probably right. Sorry, fellas, but I wanna keep my fingers today,” he sighed, pulling back a little. “Seriously, though, Noct, when are we gonna adopt one of these little guys?”

The exhibitor gave a jovial laugh. Noctis grinned, pulling another tiny piece of the cinnamon bun out of the wrapper and popping it into his mouth.

“I don’t know. When you figure out a reasonable place to keep it back home? These things _grow_, don’t forget,” Noct smirked.

“Yeah, okay. Guess I can’t really picture a full-grown chocobo fitting in our bedroom.”

The old woman laughed again, and tugged her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders to keep out the cold.

“If you enjoy chocobos, young man, you might be interested in the sleigh rides they have going on further up the street,” she offered. 

“Sleigh rides?” Prompto quizzed, head perking up in excitement.

“Yes. Carriages drawn by chocobos, you know? It’s quite an experience.”

“Oh, Noct—“

“Yep, I know,” Noct said, with an exaggerated sigh. “We have to go.”

“Yep,” Prompto grinned, getting to his feet, and directing a smile at the woman before him. “Thanks so much for the info.”

“You’re welcome. Take care, gentlemen,” she smiled.

Prompto eased himself back in against Noctis’ side as they continued along the road, their boots making soft crunching sounds against the snow. They passed by stalls selling small trinkets and souvenirs, continuing to pick away at the cinnamon bun until it was gone. They tossed their wrapper and empty cups into a nearby wastebasket and proceeded towards the chocobos up ahead.

“Sleigh rides, this way! One hundred gil each!” a man called out above the crowds, waving a bell in the air.

A shiny, white carriage with turquoise wheels and fancy embellishments rested on the left side of the snowy lane. In front of the carriage were two sturdy, white chocobos, tacked up and ready to pull the cart away.

“A hundred? Okay,” Noct smiled, reaching into his vest pocket for his wallet, but Prompto put a hand out to stop him.

“Let me get this one, ‘kay, Noct?” Prompto offered, eyes meeting his partner’s. Noctis gave him a gentle nod, remembering the agreement they had made to share the costs.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“No sweat,” Prompto grinned, handing over the gil from his own wallet. The carriage driver—who was dressed in a royal blue suit and top hat—accepted the money. His face was old, but kindly.

“We’ll be leaving in a few minutes. We’ll just wait until the previous tour returns. Feel free to pat the chocobos while you wait,” the man smiled.

“Will do. Thanks!” Prompto cheered, as the driver walked a few strides away to peer down the lane, watching for the arrival of the other carriage.  
  
Prompto wandered over to the chocobos, feeling Noct at his side all the while. He smiled at the warmth, the way Noct’s shoulder pressed against his own as they stood before the giant birds. Prompto raised a hand below their beaks, allowing them to nuzzle and gently peck at his palm.

“I miss my old chocobo,” Prompto said, with a dreamy sigh. Noctis nodded his agreement, and reached out to stroke a feathered neck.

“Yeah, so do I. Couldn’t even count the number of times we rented them. Came whenever we called, too.”

“Chocobos are pretty faithful, huh?”

“Yeah. Well, a little flighty, I guess,” Noct said, with a soft chuckle. He could remember being tossed from his chocobo’s back on more than one occasion when there had been monsters about. “But still faithful.”

“Like you?” Prompto winked.

“Forever and always,” Noctis sang, giving a nonchalant shrug. Prompto released a gentle laugh, and drew his attention back to the chocobos, moving his hands to stroke both of their beaks at once. The birds kwehed softly, seeming to enjoy the attention.

In the distance, they could hear the jingling of bells and harnesses, and wheels of the carriage crunching over packed snow. Next came the rhythmic patter of chocobo feet. The carriage driver returned to Noctis and Prompto with a smile.

“We’re almost ready to go, gentlemen. You can climb aboard.”

“After you,” Prompto offered, waving for Noctis to go ahead. The driver held the chocobos steady as he climbed up the steps and into the carriage. Prompto followed him into the small space, and sat next to him on the soft, velvet bench.

“All set, gentlemen?” the driver asked, coming to stand at the door.

“Yes, sir!” Prompto grinned.

“All set,” Noct agreed.

“Alright.”

The door was pressed closed, and Noctis and Prompto exchanged a smile, huddling in even closer now that they had this small compartment all to themselves. The driver climbed into the seat in front, and gathered up the reins, giving the chocobos a small tap, instructing them to move. They turned around and headed down the path, passing the returning tour, whose passengers waved in greeting to Noctis and Prompto. The boys waved back, hearts warmed by the kindness of the people of Niflheim.

The street was lined with the artificial conifer trees that had been shown in the newspaper, each decorated with a set of coloured rope lights. As they ventured further along, their surroundings became more wooded, the street canopied by pine trees—a tunnel of green and white. Tiny snowflakes drifted down from the sky, slow and sparse, and Prompto slipped a hand around Noct’s elbow, linking their arms together.

“Beautiful, huh?” he hummed.

“Mm-hmm. Told you Niflheim was beautiful,” Noct smiled, gaze lingering on the scenery outside the carriage door.

“You were right,” Prompto whispered.

* * *

The tour took them through a bit more of the wooded area before entering a more central part of town, showing off some quaint little homes and some tourist shops before reaching an open field filled with different rides and attractions. There was a carnival feeling about it—with the striped tent, the lit up Ferris wheel, and the musical carousel. The smell of candy apples and popcorn filled their noses as the carriage came to a halt.

“Would you folks like to get dropped off here, or shall I take you back to where I picked you up?” the driver called, peeking in at them through the carriage window. Noctis glanced at Prompto for input.

“What do you want to do? Might as well take in the sights while we’re here, right?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind.”

“‘Course, I don’t mind,” Noct smiled.

“Alright then, gentlemen. Have a good day, now.” The driver stepped down from his seat and opened the carriage door for the men to exit. They thanked him for his services before heading for the centre of the action.

There was excitement in the air, the place bustling with people. They started along the main path where the snow had been trampled by other festival-goers. To their left was a concession stand—a small trailer with popcorn, cotton candy, and candy apples displayed in the window. To their right was a carousel, adorned with the most elegantly carved chocobos Prompto had ever seen—which was saying something, because as a kid, he’d owned a book about the history of chocobo carousels that he’d read so many times, the poor thing had ended up dog-eared and wrinkled.

“Amazing, huh?” Noctis murmured, slipping his mitten-clad hand into Prompto’s. The white lights that ran along the outside of the carousel’s canopy reflected in Prompto’s eyes, making his smile glow even brighter than usual.

“It’s beautiful,” Prompto hummed in response, as they watched the carousel go round. The different coloured chocobos bounded past on their poles while children held on to their glittering reins.

“Kind of wish we were kids again so we could ride it, too,” Prompto said, with a half-hearted chuckle. Noctis squeezed his hand.

“Hey, it’s not the only attraction around here. Come on. Let’s see what else we can find.”

Prompto linked arms with Noctis, gripping him tightly as they wandered through the magical winter wonderland like two beaming children. Their senses were overloaded with coloured lights, the sweet aromas of treats, and music coming from all directions.

They passed by people playing the carnival games, which—back home, at their own Insomnian carnival—Noctis had always complained were just a way to scam people out of their money. That hadn’t stopped him from playing a game of darts exactly forty-two times until he’d won the stuffed chocobo Prompto had been eyeing for hours. Prompto had hugged that thing until there was so little stuffing left in its neck, its head could no longer even stand up properly. He swore it was the best gift Noct had ever gotten him; after all, it had probably taken the most time, money, and effort to get.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Noct pouted, noticing the puppy dog eyes that Prompto was giving him. “You want me to play the games, don’t you?”

Prompto grinned wildly.

“Nah, I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“Really? There’s no stuffed cactuar or something that you’re just dying to have?” Noct teased. He allowed himself to smile now that the dreadful possibility of having to play a near-impossible game of ring toss had passed.

“Well, that little guy is kinda cute,” Prompto smirked, pointing to a small moogle plushie hanging from the back wall of one of the target shooting games. It was pure white with shimmering purple wings, its red pom-pom sticking up through the top of a yellow chocobo-themed visor. Honestly, if Prompto had wanted to, he could have won the thing all on his own—after all, he was a wicked shot, even with a fake gun.

“Buuut, I think we’d look a little silly with that thing snuggled into the middle of our bed. Besides, I’d feel pretty inadequate as a future consort if I frittered away our money on something like that when we could put it towards bettering the kingdom, even if it’s only in some small way.”

Prompto’s confession brought a smile to Noctis’ lips, those blue-grey eyes filled with pride as he gazed upon his fiancé. He knew in that moment that he couldn’t have made a better choice in asking Prompto to marry him. Even when they were far from home, far from Insomnia’s troubles, Prompto’s mind was still with their people. He had the making of a true consort, and Noctis was reassured once again that they would be able to make a difference in the time that Prompto had left.

“I know you’re right. Even so, if you really wanted it, you know I would—”

“I know,” Prompto assured him with a smile. “But if you _really _want to spend a few gil on me and my happiness, you could buy a couple of coupons for the rides?” Prompto suggested, with a playful gleam. Noctis gave a warm laugh.

“You got it.”

* * *

Thankfully, they didn’t have to wait in line very long for the ticket booth. Once they got their coupons, they headed for the tallest set of lights they could see. The white lights were glowing atop a metal archway, and were draped along a bunting banner, each triangular flag either a shade of turquoise or violet. Once they were close enough, they could make out the rest of the contraption—a giant slide with five big bumps in it.

“Wow,” Prompto marvelled, watching as two people stepped forward and placed what appeared to be a rubber dinghy at the top of the slide.

“Yeah,” Noct agreed. They both watched with intrigued grins as the couple piled onto the dinghy and started down the slide. The air was filled with a mix of screaming and laughter as the couple descended the long, bumpy slope, becoming airborne for a second or two before landing at the bottom. Even from a distance, Noctis and Prompto could make out the giant smiles on the adventurous girl and guy.

“You want to?” Prompto lifted a brow, giving a sidelong glance at Noct.

“Hell, yeah, I do. Better be careful of my back, though. How ‘bout I sit in the front? You can cushion me a bit?” Noct asked, looking almost a little abashed to have to ask. He should have known better than to think Prompto would treat his old injury with anything but care.

“Of course, my darling prince,” Prompto sang.

They headed for the enormous slide, finding a set of freshly shovelled metal stairs heading up to the top. Prompto led the charge with a bounce in his step, and Noctis compliantly followed, smiling fondly at just how happy his fiancé looked in that moment. They soon found themselves at the top of the slide, underneath the white lights and colourful flags.

“You guys up next?” the carnival assistant asked.

“Yep, I guess so,” Prompto smiled.

“Alright, here you go.”

Prompto accepted a black, rubber dinghy and proceeded to the top of the slide with it.

“Here. I’ll hold it. You can get in first,” Noctis offered. Prompto obliged and got himself situated in the back. Pressing his hands into the snow to keep the dinghy still, he gave a nod for Noctis to climb in as well. Noctis did so _mostly _gracefully, managing to get himself inside almost fully before collapsing back against Prompto with a leg in the air.

“Okay, I take back everything I said about you being so graceful on the ice the other day,” Prompto teased.

“Big talk for someone who was too chicken to play the target game ‘cause he was afraid he’d lose,” Noct smirked back.

“Uh, no, dude. I thought _you _were the one who was too chicken to try winning me that moogle.”

“Oh. Right,” Noct mumbled, eyes shifting to the side in embarrassment. Prompto gave a hearty laugh.

“You ready, buddy?”

“Yeah, just... don’t let me fall out,” Noct warned. Prompto immediately laced his arms around Noctis’ middle, and leaned in to breathe against his ear.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

With his hands now out of the snow, the dinghy began to travel down the slippery plastic slide.

“Wh-whoa!” Noct panicked, inching himself back a little further in against Prompto, who continued to hold him tight.

“Woo-hoooooo!” Prompto yelled.  
  
They both let out yelps and bursts of laughter as they made their descent, soaring over the bumps and lifting into the air for brief intervals before hitting the slide again. Prompto made sure to keep Noctis snug against him, cushioning him from the impact. As they became airborne again over the final bump, they both broke into hysteric laughter, which continued even as they slid to a halt.

“That. Was. Awesome!” Prompto cheered, collapsing with exhaustion against the back of the dinghy.

“Ahh, way too fun,” Noctis half-sighed, half-laughed, leaning back against Prompto, enjoying the warmth for a few more seconds before they clambered out. An assistant accepted the dinghy from them, and they headed back to the sidelines where they could watch the next couple come down the slope.

“You’re not hurt, right? And you had fun?” Prompto asked, just to make sure. His hands travelled to Noct’s shoulders, his eyes gentle.

“Not hurt at all. And I had a blast,” Noctis promised him.

“Good.” Prompto’s smile was contagious, and they leaned in close to watch the next brave souls make their final landing over the bumps. They laughed in unison as the couple gathered themselves up on shaky legs.

“So, what next?” Noct asked, a hand travelling to the curve of Prompto’s spine.

“Well, I am getting a little peckish. You want to get something to eat before we try another ride?”

“You know me. I’ll never pass up a chance to stuff my face,” Noct smirked. Prompto laughed.

“So very king-like.”

* * *

They wove through the maze of attractions until they found an area filled with food carts. They took their time scanning the various options, mouths watering at the sight of some of the divine-looking foods—warm, soft pretzels; perfectly cooked golden brown fries; flame-roasted garula dogs; baramundi tacos with soft tortilla shells. In the end, they opted for some specialty Gralean nachos, topped with falxfang meat and ‘_Niflheim’s finest vegetables_’—which Noctis promptly transferred onto Prompto’s plate.

They took their meal into the large striped tent, which not only gave them a break from the snow and cold, but also provided them with some live music. They took a seat at one of the picnic tables, and watched a man play guitar upon a small stage. He was highly talented, his fingers plucking out complicated tunes that were unlike any of the music heard in Lucis. Prompto and Noctis watched in awe as he played, and they continued to pick away at their nachos until their plates were completely empty.

They stayed inside until the end of the musician’s set before wandering back out into the cold. The festival was still thriving with activity, and the men walked leisurely through the crowd, taking in the sights and sounds and smells. They eventually came across a small barn-like building, and they ventured inside to find an animal exhibit. A large array of rabbits and birds sat happily in their individual cages, which sat atop long tables that wrapped around the perimeter of the room. In the centre of the room was a rectangular wooden pen with a tiny horse inside. Its hair was white and patterned with patches of light brown, its mane thick and frizzy. Prompto wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen anything so sweet in his life.

“Noct, this must be a miniature horse! I’ve never actually seen one!” Prompto marvelled, hurrying toward the enclosure and dropping to his knees. He reached a hand through the gap in the wooden boards, and allowed the small horse to nuzzle the backs of his fingers with its soft nose.

“Neither have I. Well, you know, besides seeing them in text books,” Noct agreed, approaching the pen as well and reaching a hand over the top to tousle the little creature’s wily mane.

“You know, if there was one thing I wished we had in Lucis, it would be horses,” Prompto sighed.

“Really? Thought you were more of a chocobo guy.”

“I’m an _animal_ guy. If it’s soft and cute, I’m automatically gonna love it.”

“Yeah,” Noct smiled, fondly. “Guess that’s true.”

He wandered over to one of the tables and peeked into one of the rabbit cages. He found himself staring into the most adorable black eyes. The rabbit’s pink nose twitched curiously. Noctis let out a warm chuckle, and reached a finger in to brush against a dark brown paw. The rabbit stayed perfectly still, watching Noctis intently.

“I bet you’ll love these little guys, too, Prom,” he said, with a nod towards the row of rabbits.

“I betcha I will,” Prompto agreed, hopping up and heading for the rabbit that Noctis was affectionately petting. When he set his gaze upon the animal’s big eyes, he immediately let out a shriek.

“Oh em gee! He’s adorable!”

“Why, thank you,” Noctis winked.

“Not you!” Prompto corrected, only to earn an exaggerated pout from Noctis. “Okay, you are, too, buddy.” Prompto gave Noct a playful nudge with his elbow and they both let out soft chuckles.

They continued around the building, checking out the different coloured rabbits and the various types of birds, studying the differences in their furs and feathers. Prompto made sure to give every animal an equal amount of attention, showering them all in at least three minutes of love. When he was finally able to pull himself away, they headed outside to find the sun beginning to set. The festival lights were even more vibrant now against the darkening sky.

They walked past the games again, and Prompto gave a mischievous grin at the sight of a small fishing game that was clearly intended for children. A little boy stood in front of a low, white fence, with a plastic fishing rod in hand. The rod dangled over the side of the fence, and the boy swung it around, trying to pick up coloured fish magnets that were scattered on a blue floor mat.

“There you go, Noct. There’s the perfect game for you.”

“Oh yeah! Bet you I’d reel in all of the magnetic fish in the pond. Too bad the king of fishing isn’t allowed to play. It's for ages six and under,” Noct playfully grimaced, giving a nod toward the sign pinned on the fence.

“Aw, too bad. Thought you might like to head home with a new fish in your inventory,” Prompto teased.

“Well, actually, since you say that—” Noctis said, face lighting up with a sly smile of his own. He took Prompto’s hand and led him further down the line of games until they reached the one with the fake guns. Two people stood in front of the counter, aiming at the targets and failing somewhat miserably. Noctis leaned in close to Prompto and pointed to a collection of keychains that hung on one of the walls of the booth.

“You see them?” he asked. Prompto squinted and peered at the metal keychains in the shapes of various animals. The fish were extremely detailed, their gills crafted from overlapping pieces of metal, and painted with bright, saturated colours.

“Thought we weren’t gonna spend our money on games,” Prompto smirked.

“Yeah, I know, but... _One_ game wouldn’t hurt, right?”

“You really want one of those fish, huh?”

“I know it’s dorky, but wouldn’t it look great hanging with the rest of my keys?” Noct simpered, pulling his set of keys out of his pocket. The key-ring _was_ a little mundane. It only held his car key and keys to various parts of the Citadel—all silver and black, without a dash of colour. He knew Noctis was partly joking, but he couldn't resist seeing this silly side of him either.

“Alright, Mister Caelum. I’ll get you one,” Prompto announced, confidently. He stepped forward and dug in his pocket for a few gil.

“You want to play, fellas? Step right up!” the attendant called.

“I’ll play a round.” Prompto set his coins down on the table and the attendant accepted them, dropping them into the pouch around his waist. He handed Prompto one of the plastic rifles, and Prompto lifted it to his eye, trying to get a feel for it.

“So, what do I need in order to win one of those fish?” Prompto asked, with a glance toward the prize wall.

“Ah, you’ve got a keen eye, sir. Those are handcrafted keychains, the nicest prize we have available. You’ll need to hit the bullseye three times in a row if you want to win one of those. And you only get three bullets per game.”

“That's alright! I’ve got this,” Prompto said, mostly to psych himself up.

“Yeah, you do,” Noctis praised, stepping up to the counter next to him. The two older men who had been playing the game finished up their rounds and stepped back to watch, wondering if this cocky young man really did have what it took to win.

Prompto raised the rifle, eyes focusing in on the target. He pulled the trigger, and watched as the bullet plunged into the red bullseye.

“Yes!” Noct cheered, shoving a fist in the air. Prompto tried to keep himself calm and collected, trusting that his keen vision and good aim would earn him another victorious shot. He released another bullet, which soared to the back wall and landed directly next to the last one.

“Way to go, Prompto!” Noctis praised again, and Prompto did his best to restrain the childish grin that wanted to take over his features. Once more, he zeroed in on the target, trying to figure out how he would fit that last bullet into the small open space that remained in the bullseye.

“Okay,” Prompto whispered. He wiggled his fingers lightly against the trigger, trying to remind himself to breathe. He had defended countless shelters from the daemons during the world of darkness, he had taken down hoards of monsters all on his own, he had protected Noctis from the Rogue deep within the Citadel’s walls. He could do this. He could do anything for Noctis.

His finger curled around the trigger and he watched as the bullet shot forward. It flew towards the target, somehow wedging itself into the impossibly small space below the two other bullets.

“Yes!” Noctis cheered, nearly barrelling Prompto over in his excitement. Prompto beamed as he set the gun down, and the attendant smiled as he retrieved the bullets from the centre of the target. The men behind them grumbled as they wandered away, but Prompto and Noctis paid them no mind; they were too excited to care.

“Which one would you like?” the attendant asked. Prompto cast a glance at Noctis, who was pressed close against his side. Noctis scanned the array of coloured fish, where there were various hues of blues, reds, greens, yellows, and purples.

“How ‘bout that bluish one?” Noct said, pointing.

“Absolutely,” the attendant smiled, picking the keychain off the wall and handing it over to Noctis.

“Thank you,” Noct smiled, admiring the piece of metal in his hand as he and Prompto stepped away from the booth.

“It’s cute,” Prompto grinned.

“Yeah. Thought it looked like that massive Dread Grouper I caught that time. You remember that?”

“Of course I remember that,” Prompto practically groaned. “I nearly put my back out helping you carry it back to shore.”

“Yeah, right. We both know that Gladio did most of the heavy lifting,” Noctis laughed.

“No way. You’ve _seen _my arms, right?” Prompto asked, staring intently at his bicep as he flexed. He blinked when he felt lips press against his cheek, and he turned to gaze at a lightly flushing Noctis.

“Thank you for this,” Noct smiled, clutching the keychain tightly against his body. It was yet another fish-shaped souvenir that he would keep close to his heart, something he could hang onto long after Prompto was no longer there for him to grasp. Prompto smiled back.

“It was my pleasure, buddy.”

* * *

Noctis and Prompto chose a few more rides to try out, then stopped for yet another cup of hot chocolate. It was just enough to fight off the cold for a little while longer. Once they’d finished, they gazed upon the Ferris wheel in the distance, all lit up in blues and purples. Noctis turned to Prompto with an inquisitive look.

“You wanna?”

“You bet!”

They found their way to the correct lineup and had to wait a few minutes for their turn, but they continued to be entertained by the comings and goings of the people nearby—watching the games, listening to the musicians. Finally, it was their turn to board, and they sat snugly against one another as the Ferris wheel began to turn.

“Wow! You can really see everything from up here!” Prompto awed, leaning forward in his seat as they rose up to the top. From there, they had a clear view of the attractions. Every food cart, game booth, and ride was lit up with coloured lights, which continued to stand out against the darkness of the night and the softly falling snow. It was beautiful—beautiful beyond belief.

“Yeah. Incredible view,” Noct agreed, with a smile. Prompto sat back against the seat again, and his intrigued expression turned thoughtful.

“What is it?”

“Well, being here in the midst of all this excitement just makes me think... maybe someday, we could create something like this for the people of Lucis. They could really use a celebration. Something to cheer them up, you know?”

“Yeah, sure, it’d be nice, but... where did that come from all of a sudden?” Noctis frowned.

“I keep reminding myself that we have people waiting for us back in Lucis. Out here, far from home, it can be pretty easy to forget where we came from.”

“Yeah, but... You _haven’t _forgotten,” Noctis insisted.

“Huh?” Prompto blinked, turning his head to watch his now serious fiancé.

“Prompto, even though this trip was intended for you, you still haven’t forgotten the kingdom we have waiting for us back home. You were the one saying we should save our money to help Lucis, even if it’s only in some small way. You were the one insisting we put some of our money towards restorations before we even left. Even now, in the middle of this beautiful festival, you’re thinking about how we could implement something like this to bring joy to our own people.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Prompto asked, looking uncertain. Noctis shook his head, smiling.

“No. It’s... it’s why if something were to happen to _me_, I would trust you wholeheartedly with my kingdom.”

There was something in Noctis’ eyes, some sort of deep emotion that made Prompto aware of just how proud he was. Yes, Noctis could have chosen any mate he wanted, but Prompto couldn’t explain how comforting it was to know that Noctis loved him for more than just their relationship—he loved him because he didn’t shy away from the duties of ruling a kingdom. It was a huge undertaking—a huge _burden_, even—for anyone, but Prompto was not only accepting that undertaking, he was embracing it with open arms. He was looking towards the future of their people.

“Huh, I don’t know how well I’d do without your input. I’m still not royalty, dude,” Prompto chuckled, flushing.

“You don’t need to be. You’ve got the right heart.”

Prompto might have poked fun at Noctis for how cheesy he sounded if he weren’t so flattered by the statement. Instead, he leaned his head in against Noctis’ shoulder, smile brushing up against Noctis’ warm jacket.

“It really is going to be _our _kingdom, Prompto. I’m going to be so proud to share it with you,” Noctis whispered, nose warm as it nestled into the top of Prompto’s hair.

“Yeah,” Prompto breathed, watching the beautiful world go by. “I can’t wait.”


	23. The Measure of a Man

After staying one last night in the hotel in Gralea, they hit the road again and spent the rest of the week exploring other parts of Niflheim. It was nice, Prompto thought, to have Noctis at his side as they ventured through this new territory, checking out shops and tourist sites and museums. They were discovering this land together, land that one day might also be theirs to care for, and Prompto found himself looking forward to that day more and more.  
  
It made Prompto sad, though, to see the parts of Niflheim that hadn’t yet recovered from the world of darkness. There were parts of the towns that were blocked off, still uninhabitable piles of rubble that had yet to be repaired. Any fields that had escaped the Glacian’s snow were still barren, void of any greenery except for a spindly vine here or there. Each city had its share of poverty, as evidenced by the people begging or busking on street corners, and sitting bundled up in alleyways. Prompto wanted to fix it all.

“So, what did you think of it?” Noctis asked, as they stood outside one of the heritage museums they’d visited. Smiling, he broke off a piece of the Niflheim-made chocolate fudge that Prompto clutched in his hand; they had spied it in the gift shop, and just _had _to try it. It was well worth the gil.  
  
“The fudge or the museum? The fudge is_ divine_,” Prompto chuckled. “And the museum was pretty cool, too. It’s weird, though, huh? Feels like the Lucian education system had a pretty biased view when it came to pretty much everything concerning Niflheim.”

“You mean, what we were taught about Niflheim in school? Definitely. Seems like the citizens of Niflheim were as every bit against the war as we were, even though that’s not what we were taught to believe. I know I speculated on this not that long ago, but it really was the people in charge who were calling the shots and keeping the war going for as long as it did. The citizens were innocent in all of this,” Noct said.

“Yeah. I see that now. I’m really glad we’re getting to see things from Niflheim’s perspective, too, you know?”

“It makes me feel better, too,” Noct promised, with a convincing smile. Prompto gave a warm smile back, and broke off a corner of the fudge to pop into his own mouth.

“So, where to next?” he asked, barely pausing to chew.

“Dunno. Any ideas?”

Prompto didn’t have time to think of a response as Noctis’ phone rang. Noct dug it out of his pocket and eyed the caller ID before holding up a finger, signalling for Prompto to wait.

“I won’t be long, okay? I just need to take this,” Noctis said, brows twisted with sympathy.  
  
“Sure,” Prompto nodded, watching as Noct wandered a few steps away from the stone path leading to the museum, just out of earshot.

Prompto leaned back against the building, continuing to pick away at the fudge, wondering who Noctis had on the other line. He knew he shouldn’t complain if the call was work-related, because he’d had the king of Lucis to himself for about a week now, but he knew that if something were to call them back home already, he would have to work hard to hide his disappointment.

He didn’t want to be greedy, and he never liked to ask for too much. But if this really was his and Noctis’ final trip together, then he wanted it to last for as long as it could—long enough so that the memories of this time might never fade in either of their minds.

Prompto blinked as he heard Noctis’ footsteps approaching, and he held out a hand to offer him another piece of the delicious chocolate fudge.

“Everything okay?” Prompto quizzed. Noctis accepted the offer.

“Yeah. Actually, um... That was Dolosus, letting me know that a representative of the Niflheim government left a message for me at the Citadel. I just gave him a call.”

“Oh, uh... Are we in trouble? Not supposed to be in Niflheim territory?” Prompto teased, though his grin appeared slightly fearful.

“No, it’s not that,” Noct said, with a breath of strained laughter. “You know how you had those contacts in your notes when you returned to the Citadel all those months ago? You know, like the town mayors and stuff?”

“Oh, y-yeah,” Prompto stuttered, not quite sure where this was going.

“See, I contacted a couple of them before we left home, and they put me in touch with, well, what’s _left_ of the Niflheim government. I asked if we might be able to set up an appointment to discuss the political state of things,” Noct admitted, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his warm jacket. Prompto had to wonder why he looked so uptight.  
  
“What does _that_ mean?”  
  
“You know, talk about uniting our nations somehow,” Noct announced.

“Noct!” Prompto gaped, nearly dropping the last of the fudge. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, well, when we left on this trip, I knew I was going to propose to you again at some point. I thought it was worth putting some feelers out there,” Noct timidly shrugged.

“So, you talked to them? Just now?!”

“And the representative is willing to meet with us this afternoon if we’re free. But listen, I know this is your trip and everything. If this isn’t something you’re interested in, we don’t have to—”  
  
“Noct, you’re kidding, right?! Of course, I’m interested! I mean, I totally might piss myself right now, I’m so nervous, but... Really? We’re going to talk about uniting nations?!” Prompto blabbered, tone high-pitched and disbelieving.  
  
He found himself stepping closer and closer to Noctis with each sentence. Noctis laughed, reaching for Prompto’s shoulders to calm him, before his waving arms really did send the fudge flying into the snow-speckled grass.

“Yeah. This is... this is really happening,” Noct said, eyes glimmering and incredulous, like_ even he_ couldn’t believe they were on the path to making this a reality.

“Noct...” Prompto pushed himself in against Noctis’ warmth, throwing one arm around his neck while the other hand pressed against the front of his shoulder, still grasping the fudge, which was now starting to melt in the warmth of his palm.  
  
Noctis returned the embrace, holding Prompto close in his arms. He knew that if either of them dwelled on this moment too long, they would end up in tears, and he didn’t want that, especially when there was a chance the government wouldn’t agree with what they had to say. They couldn’t get their hopes up too high.

Smiling, Noctis lowered his head to Prompto’s hand, and gently bit off a piece of the fudge. Prompto must have felt it, for his head popped up from where it was resting against Noct’s chest, gaze transforming from shocked to playful as he watched Noct chew the fudge with a smirk.

“Way to ruin the moment,” Prompto groaned, giving him an exaggerated pout. He dug the car keys out of his pocket and handed them over to his fiancé. “Here. Hope you’re not too hopped up on sugar to drive.”

“What? You ate more than I did,” Noct said, smirk widening.

“Yeah, but between the sugar rush and pure adrenaline, my shaky hands would _never _be able to keep us on the road!”

“Alright then, sweet-tooth,” Noct smiled, shaking his head, and leading the way to the car. “I’ll drive.”

* * *

Prompto really did wish he had used the washroom again before they had entered the brick government building, as his nerves were certainly getting the better of him now. He put all his effort into keeping his breathing calm and steady as he followed Noctis and their escort into a room similar to the meeting room of the Citadel. A number of empty chairs were set up around a long table, and a man with blond, chin-length hair and a friendly face stood to greet them.

“Welcome, Your Majesty. It’s a pleasure to have you here. I am Marcus, Minister Herald of Niflheim,” he smiled, accepting Noctis hand in a firm shake.

“The pleasure is mine, Marcus. Thank you for meeting with us.”  
  
“Shall we sit?” Marcus waved toward the chairs, and Prompto and Noctis took a seat side-by-side, adjacent to the Minister Herald who sat at the head of the table. “So, you had some business you wanted to discuss? I know we spoke about it briefly on the phone.”

“Yes. Marcus, this is my fiancé, Prompto.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Prompto,” Marcus smiled, giving Prompto a gentle nod.

“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” Prompto agreed.

“As I told you before, Marcus, Prompto was born in Niflheim, and we would love for our homelands to become united somehow. Like everyone else, we are just happy to see the war finally come to an end, and we wish to keep the peace between our two nations. I know that normally, Niflheim would have been ruled by whoever was next in line, but as I understand it, Niflheim currently has no heir?” Noctis asked.

“That is correct, Your Majesty. Emperor Aldercapt had only one son, who unfortunately was killed by daemons during the days of darkness. At this time, I am currently the highest ruling member of the government, and to be honest, I feel a little at loose ends. Most town mayors are taking care of the immediate problems in specific areas while I oversee the big picture. But with so few remaining members of government working alongside me, I’m afraid I’m quite overwhelmed when it comes to how I should be helping our nation,” Marcus explained, the corner of his mouth lifting into a defeated smile, suddenly unable to mask a look of pure stress and fatigue.  
  
“Well, Prompto and I have been focusing on rebuilding parts of Lucis, and if we did have a part to play in taking care of Niflheim, we would make sure restorations were a priority here as well. I would also like to offer some of our resources, and perhaps open a trade system,” Noctis announced.

“That does sound promising, Your Majesty. I also noticed you have kept the borders open to our citizens, and I’ve heard that many of them have found good homes in Lucis,” Marcus acknowledged.

“Yes. That was one of my main priorities when I inherited the throne. I didn’t want to turn anyone away, especially after my ancestors had kept a distance between our nations for so long,” Noctis explained.

“I appreciate that, especially when much of our land is still in rougher shape than Lucis, from what I’ve heard,” Marcus said.

“Most of what we’ve seen of Niflheim during our stay has been lovely, but yeah, we’ve also seen some areas that have been blocked off or abandoned,” Prompto spoke up. Marcus turned his attention to him with a smile.

“I’m glad you’ve been enjoying your time here, but yes, there is definitely much work to be done. Prompto, if you don’t mind, I would love to hear your thoughts on uniting the nations. Do you have any goals of your own?”

“Me?” Prompto asked, wide-eyed, swallowing hard to calm himself. This was his moment. He would approach it with as much grace and dignity as he could muster, for his sake and Noct’s, for the sake of their nations. “Well, Noct and I think a lot alike when it comes to goals for our homelands. But mostly, I want to see people happy and at peace. Things were rough during the war, and who knows, maybe even rougher during the world of ruin. We’ve all lost so much—families, friends, homes, towns. I just want to see the world thriving again.”

“An admirable goal,” Marcus nodded, leaning back in his seat slightly, appearing proud. “Well, if you would both like to talk logistics with me, I’d be happy to try and find a way to make this work.”

Noctis gave a glance at Prompto, who appeared to be just barely keeping his excitement below the surface; to be honest, Noct was in the exact same boat. He turned his attention back to Marcus with a smile.

“We would love to.”

* * *

They talked for an hour about the specific struggles of each nation, where they were each lacking in resources, and which specific areas Marcus would like to focus on when it came to reconstruction. Although Noctis reminded himself to remain on his guard and keep an eye out for any signs of dishonesty, he received no bad vibes from Marcus whatsoever. The Minister Herald seemed to be nothing more than an ordinary man, weary from the previous war and days of darkness, fighting to keep his homeland alive and prosperous.

“I am really encouraged by all of the matters we have discussed, Your Majesty. And I appreciate your honesty about not being able to contribute as much as you might like until you have access to your father’s treasury. But I also see the lengths you are going to in order to make income in other ways, like the gardens you mentioned for increasing produce. Niflheim is in a similar position, where we are simply trying to find ways to make income that we can then put back into reconstruction,” Marcus explained.

“Is the Gralean festival one of those ways?” Prompto asked, tilting his head to the side in intrigue, clearly just as invested in this conversation as were the other two men.

“Yes. The Gralean festival is completely run by volunteers. The citizens were determined to bring back the festival as soon as the light returned to Eos, as it was a celebration that they refused to give up. People worked together to repair the rides, vendors and exhibitors brought what they could, hoping to make a few gil. All of the income is donated by the people to the government to help out with the repairs of their hometowns.”

“That’s pretty amazing,” Noctis mused.

“Plus, it’s good for morale. It brings people back together, and gives them some hope for the future.”

“And that’s what we’re working towards as well. Giving the people of Eos a hopeful future,” the king agreed.

“I believe our working together would be beneficial in achieving this goal. I am definitely on board with commencing a trade system and exchange of resources with Lucis. We will both benefit from having goods exclusive to the other region,” Marcus said, folding his hands comfortably atop the table.

“Marcus, I hope my sincerity has already come across in this conversation, but I just want to emphasize that this partnership is not a grab for power. As you may know, Prompto and I have been together since our teenage years, and we share a strong love not only for each other, but also for the people of Eos. We want to see both Niflheim and Lucis taken care of. Rebuilt, happy, whole,” Noctis said, placing a hand over his heart, his words nothing less than a promise.  
  
“I understand, Your Majesty.”  
  
“That being said, we don’t want to pressure you or demand control. This partnership can be as much or as little as you want it to be, whether our nations are simply allies and Niflheim continues to rule under your control, or whether this could be a true union of nations. Of course, Niflheim could maintain its name and culture. Lucis and Niflheim would simply fall under the same monarchy. And we would work with you and the rest of the government to make sure we are achieving your goals as well,” Noctis went on.

“It all sounds wonderful, Your Majesty. But I don’t feel right about going ahead with this until I have the input of the citizens. Would it be alright if we put this to a vote, just so I can be sure I am doing what is in Niflheim’s best interest?” Marcus asked, creases appearing on his forehead—an indication of apology. Noctis’ smile may have fallen a little, but he tried not to show it.

“Of course, Marcus. You must do what you feel is best for your people. Your devotion to them is admirable,” Noct said. Prompto agreed with a nod, forcing his own smile to return as well.

“I appreciate your kind words, Your Majesty. I hope for both our sakes that our nations may become allies in some shape or form.” Marcus stood, and the other two men followed his lead. Noctis outstretched a hand, shaking Marcus’ once again.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to this meeting. I really appreciate you taking the time to discuss all of this with us.”

“The pleasure was mine, Your Majesty. Truly, it was,” Marcus smiled. As Noctis released his hand, Marcus reached for Prompto’s next, shaking it across the table.

“Thank you, Marcus. I really look forward to hearing what the people have to say,” Prompto smiled.

“As do I, Prompto. Thank you so much for sharing your viewpoints as well.”

The handshake ended, and Marcus gave both of the men another smile.

“Allow me to walk you out.”

* * *

Feeling completely famished once they had made their way out of the government building and back to the car, Noctis suggested they head somewhere for a bite to eat. They didn’t have to drive long before they came across a small café tucked along a strip mall, and they soon found themselves warming up with two cups of chai tea and specialty Niflheim croissants.

“So, are you disappointed? With how things went?” Prompto asked, looking up from the croissant he held in his hands, staring at Noctis across the table. Noct swallowed a mouthful of his tea and shook his head, eyes closing tenderly.

“No, it’s okay. I had a really good feeling about Marcus, and I know he needed to check with his people on this before he gave us the go-ahead, for his own peace of mind. He was just doing what he felt he should as a leader,” Noctis said.

“Yeah,” Prompto agreed, gaze travelling down towards his plate. Noctis ducked his head, trying to catch his gaze.

“Are _you _disappointed?” he tried. Prompto looked up, eyes surprised, mouth twitching into an embarrassed smile.

“I don’t know. Maybe a little? I know that maybe it was a little naïve to think they would just jump right on the bandwagon, but... I guess I was hoping they would? I just hope I made a good enough impression,” Prompto shrugged.

“Prompto,” Noctis murmured, reaching a hand across the table, fingers grazing the sleeve covering Prompto’s forearm. “This is not about you. You had some really good things to say today, and I’m sure Marcus could tell that your heart is in this just as much as mine is.”

“N-no, Noct. I don’t think you understand,” Prompto admitted, dropping his croissant back onto his plate, hand reaching to rest on Noct’s. “For once, this isn’t about self-esteem. It’s about... not having enough time to make the changes we wanna make, you know?”

Noctis’ eyes grew noticeably sadder, and his grip on Prompto’s arm tightened, thumb brushing meaningfully over his shirt.

“We’ll have enough time,” Noct announced, words full of conviction, but his voice nearly failing him.

“Noct, I know you wanna guarantee that, but you just can’t. And it’s okay, it’s just... I want to make the best impression I can so that Marcus will trust us to take care of Niflheim. And more than that, I want _Eos _to trust us. For everyone to see us as kind rulers who just want peace,” Prompto explained.

Noctis’ eyes were locked with Prompto’s as he drank in every word, admiring with every piece of his heart this strong will that Prompto had to set things right in the world. He knew where Prompto was coming from. They had made great strides with Accordo, had gained the trust of Claustra and Lila, but there was still work to be done when it came to the rest of Eos. And Noctis, just like Prompto, did have his concerns about having enough time to bring their plans into action, though he never let himself dwell on that fear for too long.

“You know, Prom, on the off-chance that this deal with Niflheim doesn’t go through, there are still other avenues to creating peace in Eos,” Noctis said.

“I was thinking that, too,” Prompto agreed. “Keeping the borders open to anyone who wants to come to Lucis, and maintaining good relations with the other nations’ leaders will help to do that. And also... Well, I know we haven’t been engaged for long, but I’ve still been thinking about what our marriage is going to mean for the world. I’ve been thinking about Tenebrae, and how they might be a little disappointed that after your previous betrothal to Lady Lunafreya, you chose not to marry someone else of Tenebrae.”

“Yeah, the council mentioned that to me at one point, too. Said I shouldn’t worry about it too much, though. They said there’s no real reason for them to be bitter since the wedding turned out to be part of Niflheim’s plan anyway. What were your thoughts on it?”

“Well, I don’t know. I just thought maybe we should give Tenebrae some special attention, since your marriage to Lady Lunafreya was originally supposed to be a symbol of peace. I mean, I hope _our _marriage is also a symbol of peace for Niflheim and Lucis, but I still feel like we should do something for Tenebrae, to honour and thank the Oracle or something,” Prompto shrugged.

“You mean, to show our appreciation for Luna?” Noct reiterated, just to be sure he’d understood.  
  
“Yeah, exactly,” Prompto nodded. “I just want to acknowledge somehow that we’re on Tenebrae’s side as well.”

“I love the way you think, Mr. Argentum,” the king smiled back, fondly. Prompto tried to hide a sheepish smile in return, lifting his mug to his lips and taking a sip of the sharply-flavoured tea.

“And you have a point. Tenebrae is the only nation we haven’t visited yet. It’s possible they could be feeling slighted, huh?”

“You mind if I add another item to my list?” Prompto asked, with a smirk.

“You want to head to Tenebrae next?” Noct lifted a brow, but Prompto’s expression answered his question. Noct gave a chuckle, eyes disbelieving. “Never imagined this trip would turn so political.”

“I wanna do this, Noct,” Prompto promised. “Really, I do. I want a chance to prove not just to the world, but to myself, too... that I can be a good leader. That I _am _worthy of the title of consort.”

“Then I guess we’re off to Tenebrae,” Noctis smiled, knowing without a doubt that Prompto _would _prove himself worthy. He already had in Noctis’ eyes.

* * *

Tenebrae wasn’t that far from their location in Niflheim, so they headed out, hoping they could reach it before nightfall. The sun was just setting as they arrived, the pink-orange sky a captivating backdrop to the otherworldly land. Prompto could remember the images of Tenebrae in his old school textbooks—elegant white buildings set atop thick, rock pillars, enveloped in the most beautiful rich green vines. None of the photos in those books did justice to the real thing. Seeing it in person made Prompto breathless, its ethereal appearance making him feel like he had entered a fantasy world. He could see now why Noctis had always spoken of this place so fondly.  
  
Unfortunately, for Noctis, now those fond memories were tainted by shadows, laden with the guilt he carried with him. It had been a very long time since he’d been here visiting Luna, and to know he had survived to revisit her home while she hadn’t left a sour taste in his mouth.  
  
“You okay?” Prompto asked, glancing over at Noct who sat in the passenger’s seat. Noct blinked as Prompto reached for his hand, and drew his gaze away from the window. He pushed forth a weak smile.

“Yeah. Just weird being back.”

“Uh-huh. I can understand that,” Prompto murmured. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I mean, it’s not like we made an appointment or anything. We could always back out.”

“No,” Noct assured him. “You’re right, we should make an effort to show Tenebrae our support as well. We don’t want _any _lingering tensions between nations.” Noctis couldn’t help but think back to his dreams—the warnings about another war, the ideas that he must play a part in preventing it. He needed to make sure they stopped any possible dislike of Lucis before that dislike turned into something more violent.

“Still, I dunno why, but I’m more nervous about_ this _meeting than the one in Niflheim. I don’t want to get in over my head, offering things that we financially can’t handle right now,” Noctis went on.

“Yeah, I’ve thought about that, too, but we don’t have to start dishing out money right away. We could just suggest things like... having a day of the Oracle, where all the previous Oracles are celebrated and remembered. It also wouldn’t be a bad idea to start an exchange of goods here as well. It’s not so financially demanding on Lucis when we set up a trade.”

“That’s true.”

“There’s one other thing I’ve been meaning to bring up with you, but I’ve never been sure of the right time,” Prompto said, hesitance in his voice. He stared straight ahead at the road, hands curled tight around the steering wheel.

“Okay...”  
  
“I’ve got some money set aside for you when... You know, when the time comes.” Prompto could feel Noct’s sudden tension, and he quickly kept talking to keep him from cutting in. “So, it’s there for you to do whatever you want with it. And if you want to use some of it now to help Eos out, I’m okay with that, too.”  
  
“Are you talking about... an inheritance?” Noct inquired, voice hoarse.  
  
“Yeah.” Prompto was quiet now, looking almost ashamed. He didn’t dare meet Noctis’ gaze.  
  
“_No_. We are _not _having this conversation. Especially not this soon,” Noct shook his head. Prompto was only thirty-two years old. He had said that people created the way he was didn’t live much past forty, right? That meant he still had time. Way too much time to start talking about what would be left behind when he was gone.  
  
“Besides, weren’t _you _the one that said this trip was supposed to be fun, not sad?” Noctis frowned.

“I knew you wouldn’t want to talk about it, Noct, which is why I didn’t like to bring it up. And we don’t have to talk about it anymore right now if you don’t want to. I just wanted you to know it was there, okay? In case you needed it,” Prompto said, gently.

“Well, I _don’t_,” Noct fiercely insisted, hand clutching tighter to Prompto’s where they rested together between the seats. He blinked back tears as he weakly pushed forth the words, “I just need _you_.”  
  
The words sent a shiver over Prompto’s skin, down his arms and up his spine, and he focused hard on keeping his eyes on the road. It wasn’t long before Noct tugged his hand away, using it instead to wipe swiftly over his face. Prompto glanced over, half-expecting to see tears, but Noct was somehow holding himself together. They drove in silence for a minute, Prompto looking over now and then to see Noctis’ mouth twitching in time with his frown, his gaze fixed on the world outside his window. Then came the words,

“Prompto, pull over.”

“Huh? You okay?” Prompto asked, knowing it wasn’t often that Noctis complained of car sickness.

“Just pull over.”

No sooner had Prompto eased the car to the side of the road and gotten it into park than Noct was reaching for his face. Both hands cupped around Prompto’s jaws, thumbs grazing over his cheeks, the motions guiding him towards his king. Prompto barely had time to react; he just let himself be pulled willingly into the contact.

When Noctis kissed him this time, it was rough and passionate, filled with pain and emotion that he was just barely keeping below the surface. Prompto could feel Noctis' intention in the way his fingers skidded over the side of his neck and jaw, the force of his lips as they pressed hard against his own—Noctis was trying to prove that he loved him, that he was _afraid to lose him_. Prompto could feel it all in the desperation that filled Noct’s every touch.  
  
“It’s okay, Noct,” Prompto breathed, between the quiet pecks Noctis was giving him, arms weaving loosely around the back of his king’s neck.  
  
“It’s not. I _need_ you, and I’m afraid I don’t tell you that enough,” Noct whimpered, barely stopping his kisses long enough to get the words out. If Prompto thought that an inheritance would somehow lessen the blow of his passing, if he thought it might fill a void, he was dead wrong. It wouldn’t matter what Noctis did with the money, or when he chose to put it to use… it would always be something painful, a reminder of what had once been. He needed Prompto to know that even if it was a kind gesture, nothing would ever make him anything other than the most important thing in his life. Nothing would make this okay.

“You do.”  
  
“Please, just...” Noctis pleaded, retreating for only a second, eyes meeting Prompto’s. “Just kiss me.”

Prompto couldn’t deny Noctis anything when he had that look in his shimmering eyes, that look that indicated he could break down at any second. And so, Prompto allowed his lids to drift closed and he leaned in to capture Noctis’ lips. Noct released a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a sob, his arms wandering down to Prompto’s waist, where he began to gently pull. Prompto felt himself being invited over to the passenger’s side, and without a second thought—as his will to be as close to Noctis was always at the forefront of his mind—he haphazardly manoeuvred over the centre console of the spacious car.  
  
Noctis released a heavy breath as Prompto situated himself on his lap, legs on either side of him, lips still meeting in a mess of kisses. Prompto shivered again—this time, much more pleasantly—as Noctis’ fingers drifted up to the hem of his shirt, thumbs darting underneath to graze bare skin. They had both had their share of fantasies back in the day—making out in the Regalia while Ignis and Gladio were out of sight, getting intimate in the back of Noct’s car and lying there entangled in each other’s arms until the sun rose. Maybe this didn’t quite live up to those fantasies, but it would definitely do.

Prompto tipped his head back when he felt Noctis’ lips move to his neck. Noctis’ hands moved up to brace Prompto's back, gently leaning him back against the dashboard. The motion unintentionally drove their hips together, and both made noises of pure bliss—Prompto’s faint and breathy, Noctis’ a sultry growl. Noctis then leaned forward again, encouraging that heat to continue between them as he pressed kisses to Prompto’s lean torso, fingers continuing to guide his shirt out of the way. Something suddenly registered in Prompto’s brain, and his hands moved to push at Noct’s shoulders a little.  
  
“Noct, we’re still near the road. Someone will see.” He didn’t feel right about that, not when they were travelling from one very important political meeting to the next. They couldn’t risk a bad reputation. They couldn’t risk the consequences that might come with prying eyes, no matter how much they wanted each other in that moment—even if Noctis was finally ready to cross the line for him.

“Dammit,” Noct breathed, placing one last lingering kiss to Prompto’s abdomen before reluctantly sitting back against the seat. Prompto eased himself forward, up off the dash, breath heavy and face flushed.  
  
“I’ll um...” he said, giving an awkward little quirk of his lips. “I’ll just get out this way.”

He reached for Noctis’ door handle and popped it open, clambering off of Noct’s lap and exiting. He took the time to suck in a few breaths of fresh air as he walked around the car, and hopped back into the driver’s side. He shut the door and sat back against the headrest, waiting a few quiet moments for their body temperatures to return to normal before he timidly turned to Noctis.

When he did, Noct’s desolate eyes locked with his own. Prompto waited in silence, swallowing hard as he wondered what words would find their way out of Noctis’ mouth. Prompto’s expression was just as lost as Noctis’ as they watched each other, not knowing how to deal with the heavy weight that Prompto’s confession had brought upon them. Despite the few pleasurable moments they had spent together, Prompto knew the conversation they had had prior to it wouldn’t just casually slip by without another mention. The sadness in Noct’s expression was evidence of that.

“Look, I... I know you’re just trying to take care of me, Prompto. That’s what you’ve always done, and I appreciate it. But I hate thinking about... what it all means,” Noct eventually stuttered out.

“I know,” Prompto solemnly assured him.

“And I _don’t _want to think that you might have put that money aside for me when you could have used it for yourself. _You’re_ the one who should be indulging, and spending it on things you might enjoy... while you have the time,” Noct finished, each sentence coming out forced and broken.

“Don’t worry about the money, Noct. As you know, after our journey was over, the guys and I split the money four ways. Yours was there for you when you— _i-if_ you returned,” Prompto said.

“Yeah, thanks for doing that.” Noct could remember Ignis and Gladio presenting him with his portion of the remaining gil from their road trip, and immediately putting it with the funds he would use to restore his kingdom.

“So, I had some money from that, plus I was taking on a bunch of hunts once the world took a turn for the worst, so my income was pretty steady. I had more than enough to get by. And I wouldn’t have felt right splurging on stuff for me, or spending more than everyone else was,” Prompto explained. He could still remember the families who had literally nothing but the clothes on their backs; he would never have let himself live in luxury when people were suffering like that.

“And besides, once I found out the truth about me… I promised myself I would do whatever I could to make sure the people I cared about would be taken care of. So, I set some money aside for Fae, a little for Ignis and Gladio, and some for you.”

“But you didn’t even know if I—“

“Would be back for good? Yeah, I know,” Prompto said, a little breathlessly as he pushed a hand through his hair. “But I _hoped _you would.”  
  
Noctis caught his gaze again as his hand fell back down, and as eyes met, he leaned in one more time, pressing a kiss to Prompto’s lips. This one was tender, unhurried, and full of gratitude.

“Thank you,” he whispered, as eyelids drifted back open. “But you have to know that this situation... it’s always going to be hell for me.”

“I know, Noct. That’s why I want to make the most of the time we have. I’m grateful for this trip. I’m grateful for the chance to make things right with the other nations. That’s why I think for now, the best thing we can do is just keep going. We can’t dwell on what’s going to happen later on,” Prompto said.

“Yeah,” Noct agreed, meekly.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just... if that’s the case, maybe we don’t have to talk about the money anymore. Not until later on, okay?”

“Yeah,” Prompto nodded, watching the way Noct averted his gaze to the window again, trying to hide his emotions. “If that’s what you want,” Prompto agreed, as he started up the car again.  
  
“You mind if we just skip the meeting for today and head for a hotel? I think... maybe I’d be better off if I had some sleep first,” Noct said, voice quiet. As much as he wanted to keep on top of their goals, he knew he was no longer in the right mindset for another conversation about the political state of things. All he could think about now was Prompto, and this dreadful conversation.

“Sure. It has been a long day,” Prompto said, obliging, but fully aware that he was the one who had drained him.

* * *

_Noctis found himself falling, falling yet again into a familiar black abyss and plummeting into a world of blue, where wisps of pink and purple wove through the air. He was in the crystal _ _once more_ _. He waited, hoping that he wasn’t alone in this prison again, that he was merely here in his dreams. To his relief, Gentiana appeared before him, eyes closed and smile gentle, reassuring him.  
  
“You have done well this day. The King of Light is on the path,” she uttered in that soft voice of hers.  
  
“The path?” Noct questioned, frowning as he tried to recall what he had last done back in the world beyond this one.  
  
“Keep on the path, and you may just succeed in averting war.”  
  
“Gentiana, what is the path? What is it that I’ve done well?” Noctis asked, as Gentiana turned away, her pace slow as a portal opened up before her. Despite his call, she continued to walk towards it.  
  
“You are not acting alone, young king. You have found your other soul.”_

“_Other soul? What are you talking about?” Noctis hollered, as Gentiana was swallowed up in a swirling black hole. __It wasn’t long before he felt the sharp tug around his waist, pulling him back to reality._

* * *

Noctis awoke to find the dark hotel room slightly illuminated by the glow of Prompto’s phone screen. _The path_, he thought to himself, recalling Gentiana's message and trying yet again to remember the day’s events.  
  
They had talked to Marcus and made strides with Niflheim. They had come to Tenebrae to make connections as well. Could one of those things be the key to averting the war? How he hoped so. How he hoped that Niflheim could be that key, that _he and Prompto_ could be that key. That was what he had been wishing for all along, ever since the dreams had started.  
  
Prompto lay on his back, staring up at the screen, slowly scrolling through a photography website. He glanced to his right, hearing Noct give an exhausted sigh.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” Prompto asked, gently.

“No.” Noct tiredly swiped a hand over his face, as if it might brush the last of the dream away.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Noctis whispered. Prompto set his phone down on the nightstand as he felt his fiancé moving in towards him. Noct rolled onto his side and rested his head on Prompto’s shoulder, arm draping over his torso. Prompto embraced him in return, easing an arm under his neck and pressing a tender kiss to his forehead.

“I’m sorry if I upset you today,” Prompto admitted, guilt audible even in his whisper.

“Nah, that’s not why I couldn’t sleep. Just dreaming again,” Noctis assured him, ignoring the uncomfortable flip of his stomach.

“Oh. Okay. But still... I am sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Noct promised.

“I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it anymore, but can I just say one more thing?” Prompto asked, cautiously. Noct clutched him a little tighter.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“I know that the money I set aside for you doesn’t even come close to fixing things. I know it’s not going to make things any less painful for you. But you have to know that it’s for _my _peace of mind too, okay? I need to know that I’ve done _something _to make sure you’re taken care of after I’m gone.”

“That... makes sense,” Noct whispered, nose nestling in a little closer to Prompto’s bare chest.

“I’m glad you understand.”

“I do. Honestly, it’s really sweet of you, Prom. And I _want _you to feel at ease... when that time comes. And maybe I’m just being selfish, but it’s hard for me to talk about it. It’s hard to even _think _about losing you.”

“That’s not selfish, Noct,” Prompto said, voice weak with emotion. He lifted his head to meet Noctis’ eyes—they were so sad as they peered up at him, appearing almost child-like, as if he were that young, dark-haired boy in the school courtyard again, back when they had had their first embarrassing encounter. “That’s natural. That’s just love.”

“Yeah,” Noct said, with a meek breath of laughter, lowering his gaze. “Guess you’re right.”

“Hey, um... When Ignis told me about the prophecy, after you had gone into the Crystal, I didn’t take it well either. I was so angry at him for hiding it from me. I ended up shutting down completely because I just _couldn’t _ think about losing you,” Prompto explained, slowly drawing Noctis’ curious and sympathetic gaze back to him. “So, I know what it’s like, Noct. I know how horrible this is for you.”  
  
“It _is _ horrible," Noct agreed, hand rubbing tender circles on Prompto's waist. "And sometimes I forget that you went through all of this, too. So, I’m sorry.”  
  
“No need to be sorry,” Prompto whispered, kissing Noctis’ forehead again. “Dealing with this stuff is hard.”

Noct nestled in a little closer, head tilting to rest under Prompto’s chin. Prompto rubbed his shoulder affectionately, holding him flush against him. It felt so good to be close, so comforting to be skin on skin, and Prompto felt his mind wandering back to the incident in the car just hours before.

“Noct? Can I ask… How far do you think we would have gone today? If I hadn’t stopped things?”

Noctis fidgeted a little, the question taking him by surprise.

“Oh, uh… I’m actually not sure. You were hoping for—?”

“I’m always hoping,” Prompto admitted, with a shrug, the corner of his mouth lifting into a bashful smile. “But like I said before, I get why you’re worried, and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize my health either. But I also don’t want to miss out on special moments we could be having together. Which is why I wanted to ask...”  
  
“Yeah?” Noct pried, lifting his head when he felt Prompto’s tense up. Noct stared down into his innocent eyes, Prompto’s mouth twisted with uncertainty.

“On our wedding night, do you think we could make an exception?”  
  
Noctis felt his mouth go dry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, life has been so busy lately, and I didn't have any of this chapter pre-written, so it took me a lot longer than I had hoped to get this chapter up. But here it is! I hope you all enjoyed it, and thanks for continuing to stick with me through these sweet boys' journey!


End file.
